i 


I 


/ 


4\r 


Xk 


_ y^:AA.% 

University  of  California. 


CJIB^T   OF 


CHRISTIANITY 


MODERN  THOUGHT. 


CHRISTIANITY 


AND 


UNfTARfAN 
A3 


'Soc;ation 


T'ON,  W\>5 


c^. 


MODERN    THOUGHT, 


'V       OP  THK     ^ 

;U17I7ERSIT7l 


BOSTON: 
AMERICAN    UNITARIAN    ASSOCIATION. 

1880. 


cr 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872  by 

THE  AMERICAN   UNITARIAN  ASSOCIATION, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


Univkrsity  Press:  John  Wilson  &  Son, 
Cambriogb. 


INTRODUCTION. 


'T^HB  following  discourses  were  delivered  in  Boston, 
at  HoUis-Street  Church,  on  successive  Sunday 
evenings,  and  repeated  at  King's  Chapel  on  Monday 
afternoons,  during  the  winter  of  1871-72,  in  response 
to  an  invitation  of  the  Executive  Committee  of  the 
American  Unitarian  Association,  whose  purpose  was 
thus  declared  in  the  letter  of  invitation :  — 

*'It  is  not  proposed  that  the  course  shall  be  a  merely 
popular  one,  to  awaken  the  indifferent  and  interest  them 
in  familiar  reUgious  truths ;  but  rather  to  meet  the  need 
of  thoughtful  people  perplexed  amid  materialistic  and 
sceptical  tendencies  of  the  time.  Nor  is  it  desired  simply 
to  retrace  in  controversial  method  the  beaten  paths  of 
sectarian  or  theological  debate ;  but  rather,  in  the  inter- 
est of  a  free  and  enlightened  Christianity,  to  present 
freshly  the  positive  affirmations  of  faith." 

The  several  discourses  were  prepared  independently, 
without  conference  or  concerted  plan ;  and  for  their 
statements  and  opinions  the  responsibility  rests  solely 
with  their  respective  authors. 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/cliristianitymodeOObostriGli 


CONTENTS. 


PAOX 
Intbouuction T 


Break  between  Modern    Thought  and   Ancient  Faith 
AND  Worship 8 

By  Henry  W.  Bellows. 

A  True  Theology  the  Basis  op  Human  Progress  ...      36 
By  James  Freeman  Clarke. 

The  Rise  and  Decline  of  the  Bomish  Church   ....      61 
By  Athanase  Coquerel,  Fils. 

Selfhood  and  Sacrifice 101 

By  Orville  Dewey. 

The  Relation  of  Jesus  to  the  Present  Age 129 

By  Charles  Carroll  Everett. 

The  Mythical  Element  in  the  New  Testament  ....    167 
By  Frederic  Henry  Hedge. 

The  Place  of  Mind  in  Nature  and  Intuition  in  Man-  .    179 
By  James  Martineau. 

The  Relations  op  Ethics  and  Theology 209 

By  Andrew  P.  Peahody. 

Christianity  :  What  it  is  not,  and  what  it  is  .        .    .    231 
By   G.  Vance  Smith. 

The  Aim  and  Hope  of  Jesus 273 

By  Oliver  Stearns. 


THE   BREAK  BETWEEN    MODERN   THOUGHT 


ANCIENT    FAITH   AND   WORSHIP. 


Bt   HENl^Y   W.   BELLOWS. 


^<n^^£^ 


UNIVERSITy, 


THE   BREAK   BETWEEN    MODERN  THOUGHT 


ANCIENT   FAITH   AND   WORSHIP. 


'TpiIERE  is  evidently  a  growing  disrelish,  in  an  im- 
-*-  portant  portion  of  the  people  of  our  time,  for  pro- 
fessional religion,  technical  piety,  an^  theological  faith. 
These  were  always  unpopular  with  youth,  and  people  in 
the  flush  of  life  and  spirits ;  but  this  was  because  they 
called  attention  to  grave  and  serious  things ;  and  youth, 
as  a  rule,  does  not  like  even  the  shadow  of  truth  and  duty 
to  f  dl  too  early  or  too  steadily  upon  it.  Restraint,  care, 
thoughtfulness,  it  resists  as  long  as  it  can  ;  and  none  who 
recall  their  own  eager  love  of  pleasure  and  gayety,  in  the 
spring-time  of  life,  can  find  much  difficulty  in  understand- 
ing or  excusing  it.  Of  course,  too,  careless,  self-indulgent, 
sensual,  and  frivolous  people  have  always  disliked  the 
gravity,  and  the  faith  and  customs,  of  people  professing 
religion,  and  exhibiting  special  seriousness.  They  wei-e  a 
reproach  and  a  painful  reminder  to  them,  and  must  be 
partially  stripped  of  their  reproving  sanctity,  by  ridicule, 
charges  of  hyjiocrisy,  and  hints  of  contempt.  But,  all  the 
while  this  was  going  on,  the  youth  and  frivolity  of  previous 
generations  expected  the  time  to  come  when  they  must 
surrender  their  carelessness,  and  be  converted ;  and  ever 


4  BREAK   BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

the  worldly  and  scoffing  shook  in  their  secret  hearts  at  the 
verj'  doctrines  and  the  very  piety  they  caricatured.  The 
old  relations  of  master  and  pupil  describe  almost  exactly 
the  feeling  which  youth  and  levity  held  toward  instituted 
faith  and  piety,  a  generation  or  two  since.  The  school- 
boy, indeed,  still  thinks  himself  at  liberty  to  call  his  master 
nick-names,  to  play  tricks  upon  him,  and  to  treat  with 
great  levity,  among  his  fellow-pupils,  all  the  teaching  and 
all  the  rules  of  the  school.  But  he  nevertheless  sincerely 
respects  his  teacher ;  believes  in  him  and  in  his  teachings, 
and  expects  to  derive  an  indispensable  benefit  from  them, 
in  preparing  himself  for  his  coming  career.  So  it  was  with 
the  religion  and  pijety  of  our  fathers.  The  people  pro- 
foundly respected  the  creed,  the  elders  in  piety,  and  the 
eminent  saints  in  profession  and  practice,  although  the 
young  had  their  jibes  and  jests,  their  resistance  to  church- 
going,  their  laugh  at  sanctimony;  and  the  majority  of 
people  then,  as  now,  were  not  fond  of  the  restraints  of 
piety,  or  the  exercises  of  devotion. 

But  the  alienation  to  which  I  wish  to  draw  your  atten- 
tion now  is  something  quite  different  from  the  natural 
opposition  of  the  young  to  serious  thoughts ;  or  the  gay, 
to  grave  matters;  or  those  absorbed  in  the  present,  to 
what  belongs  to  the  future ;  or  of  those  charmed  with  the 
use  of  their  lower  or  more  superficial  faculties  and  feel- 
ings, to  the  suggestions  and  demands  of  their  deeper  and 
nobler  nature.  That  the  body  should  not  readily  and 
without  a  struggle  submit  to  the  mind ;  that  thoughtless- 
ness should  not  easily  be  turned  into  thoughtfulness ;  that 
youth  should  not  readily  consent  to  wear  the  moral  cos- 
tume of  maturity,  or  the  feelings  and  habits  of  riper  years ; 
that  the  active,  fresh,  curious  creature,  who  has  just  goi 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH  AND    WORSHIP.  5 

this  world  with  its  gay  colors  in  his  eye,  should  not  be 
much  attracted  by  spiritual  visions,  and  should  find  his 
earthly  loves  and  companions  more  fascinating  than  the 
communion  of  saints  or  the  sacred  intercourse  of  prayer, — 
all  this,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  is  very  explicable,  and 
belongs  to  all  generations,  and  hardly  discourages  the 
experienced  mind,  more  than  the  faults  and  follies  of  the 
nursery  the  wise  mother  who  has  successfully  carried  many 
older  children  through  them  all. 

It  is  quite  another  kind  of  antipathy  and  disrelish  which 
marks  our  time.  It  is  not  confined  to  youth,  nor  traceable 
to  levity  and  thoughtlessness.  The  Church  and  its  creed 
on  one  side,  the  world  and  its  practical  faith  on  the  other, 
seem  now  no  longer  to  stand  in  the  relation  of  revered 
teachers  and  dull  or  reluctant  pupils;  of  seriousness, 
avoided  by  levity ;  of  authoritative  truth,  questioned  by 
bold  error ;  of  established  and  instituted  faith,  provoking 
the  criticisms  of  impatience,  caprice,  ignorance,  or  folly. 
An  antagonism  has  arisen  between  them  as  of  oil  and 
water,  —  a  separation  which  is  neither  due  to  period  of 
life,  nor  stage  of  intelligence,  nor  even  to  worth  of  charac- 
ter; which  does  not  separate  youth  from  maturity,  the 
thoughtless  fi-om  the  thinking,  the  bad  from  the  good, 
but  divides  the  creeds,  observances,  and  professions  of 
Christians,  from  a  large  body  of  people  who  insist  that 
after  a  certain  fashion  they  are  Christians  too,  and  yet 
will  have  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  professions  of  faith, 
or  pious  pretensions,  or  religious  ways  of  feeling,  talking, 
or  acting. 

Clearly,  it  would  not  do  any  longer  to  say  that  the 
worth  and  virtue  and  influence  of  society,  in  this  country, 
could  be  estimated  by  the  number  of  communicants  in  the 


6     BREAK   BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

churches,  by  the  degree  of  credit  still  given  to  any  of  the 
long-believed  theological  dogmas,  deemed  in  the  last  gen- 
eration the  sheet-anchoi-s  of  the  State.  We  all  know 
hundreds  of  people,  who  could  sign  no  creed,  and  give  no 
theological  account  of  their  faith,  whom  we  do  not  count 
as  necessarily  less  worthy  in  the  sight  of  God  or  man  than 
many  who  have  no  difficulty  in  saying  the  whole  Athana- 
sian  Creed.  Nay,  there  are  some  millions  of  people  in 
this  country,  not  the  least  intelligent  or  useful  citizens  in 
all  cases,  who  never  enter  a  church-door.  A  generation  or 
two  back,  you  would  safely  have  pronounced  all  these 
absentees  to  be  worldly,  careless  people,  infidels,  atheists, 
scoffers.  Do  you  expect  to  find  them  so  now  ?  Some,  of 
course,  but  not  the  majority.  Indeed,  you  would  find  a 
great  many  of  these  people  supporting  churches,  to  which 
their  families  go,  and  not  themselves ;  or  to  which  others 
go,  for  whom  they  are  glad  to  provide  the  opportunity. 
They  would  tell  you,  if  they  could  discriminate  their  own 
thoughts,  something  like  this :  "  Public  worship  and  church 
organizations,  and  creeds  and  catechisms,  and  sermons  and 
ceremonies,  and  public  prayers  and  praises,  are  doubtless 
very  good  things,  and  very  usefUl  up  to  a  certain  stage  of 
intelligence,  and  for  a  certain  kind  of  character.  But  we 
have  discovered  that  the  real  truth  and  the  real  virtue 
of  what  people  have  been  misnaming  religion  is  a  much 
larger,  freer,  and  more  interesting  thing  than  churches, 
creeds,  ministers,  and  saints  seem  to  think  it.  Here  is 
this  present  Hfe,  full  of  occupations  and  earnest  struggles 
and  great  instructions.  Here  is  this  planet,  not  a  thou- 
sandth part  known,  and  yet  intensely  provoking  to  intelli- 
gent curiosity ;  and  science  is  now  every  day  taking  a  fresh 
and  an  ever  bolder  look  into  it;  and  we  want  our  Sun- 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH   AND    WORSHIP,  7 

days  to  follow  these  thiogs  up.  That  is  our  idea  of  wor- 
ship. Then,  again,  the  greatest  philosophers  are  now 
writing  out  their  freest,  finest  thoughts  about  our  nature ; 
and,  if  we  go  to  church,  we  are  likely  to  find  some  fanati- 
cal and  narrow-minded  minister  warning  us  against  read- 
ing or  heeding  what  these  great  men  say;  and  it  is  a 
thousand  times  fresher  and  grander  and  more  credible 
than  what  he  says  himself !  Why,  the  very  newspapers, 
the  earnest  and  well-edited  ones,  contain  more  instruction, 
more  warning,  more  to  interest  the  thoughtful  mind,  than 
the  best  sermons ;  and  why  should  a  thinking  man,  who 
needs  to  keep  up  with  the  times,  and  means  to  have  hia 
own  thoughts  free,  go  where  duty  or  custom  makes  it 
common  to  frown  upon  inquiry,  doubt,  and  speculation,  — 
to  shut  out  knowledge  and  testimony,  and  stamp  a  man 
with  a  special  type  of  thinking  or  professing  ?  " 

For  there  are,  you  observe, — injustice  to  these  thoughts, 
—  these  two  instructors  to  choose  between  in  our  genera- 
tion. Here  is  the  Church,  with  its  ecclesiastical  usages 
and  its  pious  exhortations ;  its  Sunday  school  for  the 
children ;  its  devotional  meeting  in  the  week,  and  its  Sun- 
day teaching  and  worship,  —  all  acknowledged  as  good  for 
those  that  like  them,  and  are  willing  to  accept  what  people 
thought  or  believed  was  true  a  hundred  or  five  hundred 
years  ago ;  and  here  is  the  modern  press,  with  the  wonder- 
ful profusion  of  earnest  and  able  books,  cheap  and  attrac- 
tive, and  treating  boldly  all  subjects  of  immediate  and  of 
permanent  Interest;  and  here  are  the  reviews,  quarterly 
and  monthly,  that  now  compress  into  themselves  and 
popularize  all  that  these  books  contain,  and  furnish  critical 
notices  of  them ;  and  then,  again,  here  are  the  newspapers, 
wonderful  in  variety  and  ability,  that  hint  at,  suggest,  and 


8  BREAK  BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

bring  home  all  the  new  and  fresh  thoughts  of  the  time. 
And  the  marvel  is,  that  most  of  these  books,  reviews, 
papers,  are  in  the  interest  of,  and  seem  inspired  by,  some- 
thing larger,  freer,  fresher,  truer,  than  what  the  churches 
and  the  creeds  are  urging.  Thus  church  religion  and  gen- 
eral culture  do  not  play  any  longer  into  each  other's  hands. 
If  you  believe  what  the  men  of  science,  the  philosophers, 
the  poets  and  critics,  believe,  you  cannot  believe,  except 
in  a  very  general  way,  in  what  the  creeds  and  churches 
commonly  profess.  Accordingly,  the  professors  in  college, 
the  physicians,  the  teachers,  the  scientists,  the  reformers, 
the  politicians,  the  newspaper  men,  the  reviewers,  the 
authors,  are  seldom  professing  Christians,  or  even  church- 
goers ;  and  if  they  do  go  to  church  from  motives  of  inter- 
est or  example,  they  are  free  enough  to  confess  in  private 
that  they  do  not  much  believe  what  they  hear. 

Assuming  that  this  is  a  tolerably  correct  account  — 
although  doubtless  exaggerated  for  pictorial  effect  —  of 
the  existing  state  of  things  among  the  reading  and  think- 
ing class  of  this  country,  what  is  the  real  significance  of 
it  ?  Is  it  as  new  as  it  seems  ?  Is  it  as  threatening  to  the 
cause  of  religious  faith  as  it  seems  ?  Reduced  to  its  most 
general  terms,  is  it  any  thing  more  or  other  than  this? 
The  faith  and  worship  of  this  generation,  and  the  experi- 
ence and  culture  of  a  portion  of  this  generation,  have  tem- 
porarily fallen  out;  and,  as  in  all  similar  quarrels,  there 
is,  for  the  time,  helpless  misunderstanding,  mutual  jealousy 
and  misrepresentation.  The  fkith  and  piety  of  the  time 
pronounce  the  culture,  the  science,  the  progressive  phi- 
lanthropy, the  politics,  the  higher  education  and  advanced 
literature,  to  be  godless  and  Christless ;  and  the  culture 
of  the  age  retaliates,  perhaps,  with  still  greater  sincerity. 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH  AND    WORSHIP.  9 

in  pronoun ciDg  the  faith  and  worship  of  the  time  to  be 
superstitious,  antiquated,  sentimental,  and  specially  fitted 
only  to  people  willing  to  be  led  by  priests  and  hireling 
ministers. 

Now,  if  this  were  a  quarrel  between  experience  and  in- 
experience, between  good  and  bad,  between  truth  and 
falsehood,  it  would  be  easy  to  take  sides.  But  faith  and 
knowledge  have  both  equal  rights  in  humanity.  People 
who  are  sincerely  in  love  with  knowledge  and  science  and 
philosophy  are  not  thereby  made  enemies  of  God  or  man ; 
certainly  are  not  to  be  discouraged  and  abused  for  their 
devotion  to  practical  and  scientific  .truth,  their  search 
for  facts,  their  interest  in  the  works  of  the  Creator,  even 
if  they  are  not  possessed  of  what  the  church  properly 
calls  faith  and  piety.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  however 
shocked  established  faith  and  piety  may  naturally  be  by 
the  handling  which  religion  and  its  creeds  and  worship 
receive  from  modern  inquisitors,  ought  the  deeper  be- 
lievers to  be  seriously  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  its  root  or 
its  healing  leaves,  on  account  of  the  shaking  which  the 
tree  of  life  is  now  receiving  ?  However  slow  science  and 
culture  may  often  show  themselves  to  be  in  recognizing 
the  fact,  can  any  reasonable  and  impartial  mind,  acquainted 
with  history  or  human  nature,  believe  that  faith  itself  is 
an  inconstant  or  perishable  factor  in  our  nature?  prayer 
a  childish  impulse,  which  clear-seeing  manhood  must  put 
away  ?  the  conscience,  not  the  representative  of  a  holiness 
enthroned  over  the  moral  universe,  but  an  artificial  organ, 
which  social  convenience  has  developed,  much  like  the 
overgrown  liver  in  the  Strasburg  goose?  In  short,  who 
that  considers  the  part  that  faith  and  worship  have  played 
in  the  history  of  the  race,  can  doubt  their  essential  and 

!• 


10  BREAK  BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

permanent  place  in  human  fortunes?  The  question  of 
some  religion,  of  some  worship,  for  the  people,  does  not 
seem  debatable.  The  only  alternative  among  nations  has 
been  a  religion  in  which  mystery,  awe,  and  fear  prevailed, 
clothing  themselves  in  dread  and  bloody  sacrifices,  or  else 
a  religion  in  which  more  knowledge,  more  reason,  more 
love,  embodied  themselves  in  a  simpler  and  gentler  ritual. 
The  nations  have  had  only  a  choice  —  not  always  a 
wholly  voluntary  one  —  between  terrific  superstitions  and 
more  or  less  reasonable  religions.  Christianity  has  pre- 
vailed in  civilized  nations,  since  Constantine,  by  accom- 
modating its  theological  dogmas  and  external  ritual  to 
the  needs  of  successive  eras ;  beginning  with  coai-ser  and 
more  heathenish  symbols,  and  running  itself  clearer  and 
more  clear,  as  the  mind  and  taste  and  experience  of  the 
race  have  developed  "sweetness  and  light."  But  does 
this  make  Christianity  only  a  human  growth,  and  so  pre- 
dict a  coming  decay,  which  many  seem  to  think  has 
already  begun  ?  On  the  contrary,  the  decisive  fact  about 
Christianity  is,  that,  while  its  intellectual  history  is  chang- 
ing, its  early  records  are  in  form  fixed  and  permanent, 
and  that  its  real  progress  has  been  uniformly  a  return 
towards  its  original  simplicity.  Other  faiths  develop.  It  is 
we  who  develop  under  Christianity,  and  are  slowly  changed 
unto  the  original  likeness  of  Christ.  Christ's  statements, 
Christ's  character,  Christ's  words,  do  not  become  anti- 
quated. We  are  not  called  upon  to  explain  away,  as  su- 
perstitions of  the  time,  any  of  the  certain  words  he  said, 
or  thoughts  he  had,  or  commandments  he  left.  True,  there 
are  critical  emban*assments  about  the  record,  and  room 
enough  to  question  how  it  was  made  up ;  and  we  cannot 
always  trust  the  reporters  of  that  age,  or  our  own.    But 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH   AND    WORSHIP.  11 

when  we  get,  as  we  certainly  do  get  in  hundreds  of  cases, 
at  Christ's  own  words  ;  or  when  we  really  see  —  as  by  a 
hundred  vistas,  through  all  the  debris  and  rubbish  of  the 
age,  we  may  see  —  the  true  person  and  bearing  and  spirit 
of  Jesus,  we  behold,  we  recognize,  we  know,  a  Being  who, 
transferred  to  this  age,  and  placed  in  the  centre  of  the 
choicest  circle  of  saints  and  sages  whom  culture  and 
science  and  wisdom  could  collect,  would  bear  just  the 
same  exalted  relation  of  superiority  to  them  that  he  did 
to  the  fishermen  and  publicans  and  kings  and  high-priests 
and  noble  women  and  learned  rabbis  of  his  own  day.  We 
should  not  hesitate,  any  more  than  they  did,  to  call  him 
Master  and  Lord ;  to  say,  "  To  whom  else  shall  we  go  ? 
Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life." 

Those,  then,  who  fear  that  true  culture,  that  science 
or  philosophy  boldly  pushed,  that  learning  and  logic 
impartially  appUed,  —  whether  in  studying  God's  method 
in  creation,  or  his  method  in  revelation,  —  can  injure  per- 
manently faith  and  piety,  or  endanger  Christianity,  as  a 
whole,  must  either  think  the  religious  wants  of  man  very 
shallow  or  very  artificial,  or  the  providence  of  God  very 
easily  baffled,  and  the  harmony  of  his  word  and  works 
very  badly  matched.  If  there  be  in  nature  or  in  man,  in 
earth  or  in  our  dust,  in  chemistry,  astronomy,  anthro- 
pology; in  geology,  the  language  of  dead  eras;  or  in 
language,  the  geology  of  buried  races,  any  thing  that 
disproves  the  existence  and  providence  of  a  living  God, 
the  holiness  and  goodness  and  trustworthiness  of  his 
character;  the  moral  and  religious  nature  of  man,  his 
accountableness,  his  immortality ;  the  divine  beauty  and 
sinless  superiority  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  essential  truth 
of  hia  religion,  —  by  all  means  let  us  know  it !     Why 


12  BREAK  BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGET 

ehould  we  allow  ourselves  to  be  beguiled  by  fables  and 
false  hopes  and  make-believes  ?  But  the  faith  of  religious 
experience,  the  confidence  of  those  who  know  and  love 
and  have  become  spiritually  intimate  with  the  gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ,  is  usually  such  that  they  would  sooner  mis- 
trust their  senses  than  their  souls.  They  have  found  a 
moral  and  spiritual  guidance,  a  food  and  medicine  in  their 
Christian  faith,  which  enables  them  calmly  to  say  to 
criticism,  to  science,  to  culture,  "We  do  not  hold  our 
faith,  or  practise  our  worship,  by  your  leave,  or  at  your 
mercy."  Faith  leans  first  on  the  spiritual  nature  of  man, 
and  not  on  demonstrable  science.  It  would  not  be  faith, 
if  it  were  only  a  sharper  sight.  It  is  insight,  not  sight. 
It  springs  from  its  own  root,  not  primarily  from  the 
intellect.  As  we  love  our  wives  and  children  with  some- 
thing besides  the  judgment,  or  the  logical  faculty,  so  we 
love  God  with  the  heart,  and  not  with  the  understanding. 
We  stand  erect,  with  open  eyes,  when  we  are  seeking 
truth ;  we  fall  on  our  knees  with  closed  eyelids,  when  we 
are  seeking  God !  Religion  is  not  the  rule  of  three,  but 
the  golden  rule ;  it  is  not  the  major  and  minor  premises 
and  copula  of  logic,  but  the  sacred  instinct  of  the  soul, 
which  Jesus  Christ  has  satisfied,  and  guided,  and  owned, 
and  directed,  in  an  inestimable  way. 

But  when  faith  and  worship  have  taken  this  true  and 
independent  tone,  let  them  not  join  the  foolish  bigots, 
who  think  that  because  faith  rests  on  other  foundations 
than  science,  therefore  it  owes  nothing  to  science  and 
culture,  and  can  wholly  separate  its  fortunes  and  future 
from  them.  True,  faith  and  culture,  religion  and  science, 
in  spite  of  their  general  and  permanent  agreement  and 
connection,  when  they  cannot  get  on  honestly  together, 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH  AND    WORSHIP.  13 

had  better  for  the  time  separate  ;  for  they  embarrass  each 
other,  and  it  is  in  their  insulation  that  they  sometimes 
ripen  and  prepare  in  separate  crucible  elements  that  are 
ultimately  to  blend  in  a  finer  compound  than  either  ever 
knew  before.  Thus  faith,  driving  science  and  culture  out 
of  her  cell,  and  closing  the  doors  on  fact  and  observation, 
wrapt  in  devotion,  has  sometimes  caught  visions  of  God 
through  her  purely  spiritual  atmosphere,  which  sages  in 
their  laboratories  have  never  seen.  The  great  religious 
inspirations  have  not  come  from  scholars,  but  from  seers ; 
from  men  of  soul,  not  men  of  sense.  "How  knoweth 
this  man  letters,  having  never  learned  ?  "  said  his  contem- 
poraries of  Christ.  Well,  he  knew  no  letters,  but  he  had 
what  letters  never  teach,  —  divine  wisdom!  He  knew 
God,  that  end  of  knowledge ;  he  knew  man,  that  last  of 
philosophy.  Faith  therefore  often  recruits  itself  in  a  tem- 
porary divorce  from  science,  just  as  Romanism  profitably 
drives  her  priests  into  periodical  retreats  for  prayer  and 
exclusive  meditations  on  God  and  Christ.  It  is  beautiful  to 
study  even  those  humble  and  uninstructed  Christian  sects, 
whose  simple  and  implicit  faith  is  protected,  yes,  and 
exalted,  by  their  providential  indifference  to  science  or 
unacquaintance  with  speculative  difficulties.  It  is  not 
their  ignorance  that  kindles  their  devotion,  but  it  is  faith's 
vitality,  which  in  certain  exceptional  natures  and  times 
beams  and  glows  most  purely,  fed  only  on  its  own  sacred 
substance.  When  you  have  reached  the  inner  kernel 
of  a  true  Moravian,  or  even  a  true  Catholic  heart,  and 
found  a  solid  core  of  faith,  unsupported  by  any  other 
evidence  than  that  which  the  Scripture  described  in  the 
words,  "  Faith  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen,"  you  have  gone  far  towards 


14  BREAK   BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

fathoming  the  holiest  secret  in  our  nature,  the  well  of 
living  water.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  how  much  better, 
both  for  faith  and  science,  that  science  should,  at  a  time 
like  this,  go  without  religious  ends  into  physical  or  meta- 
physical pursuits,  investigate,  inquire,  test,  question,  in 
absolute  independence  of  theological  or  spiritual  results. 
It  is  only  when  thus  free  and  bold  and  uncommitted  that 
her  testimony  is  worth  any  thing.  Think  of  Newton, 
meditating  and  exploring  the  solar  system,  in  the  simple 
love  of  truth,  without  let  or  hindrance  from  ecclesiastical 
intermeddlers,  and  compare  him  with  Galileo,  lifting  his 
telescope  under  the  malediction  of  the  priesthood  of 
Rome. 

No :  let  science  be  as  free  as  light,  as  brave  as  sun- 
beams, as  honest  as  photography !  Encourage  her  to 
chronicle  her  conclusions  with  fearless  and  unreproached 
fidelity.  She  will  doubtless  make  many  things  which 
have  been  long  associnted  with  religion  look  foolish  and 
incredible.  But  it  is  only  so  religion  can  shed  some  husks, 
and  get  rid  of  some  embarrassments.  It  is,  in  short,  only 
just  such  assaults  and  criticisms  from  science  and  experi- 
ence that  ever  induces  religion  to  strain  out  the  flies  from 
her  honey ;  to  dissociate  what  is  accidental  in  faith  from 
what  is  essential  and  permanent.  And,  when  science  and 
culture  have  gathered  in  the  full  han^est  of  this  wonder- 
ful season  of  discovery  and  speculation,  we  may  expect  to 
find  faith  stripped  of  many  garments,  now  worshipped, 
which  ignorance  and  fear  put  upon  her  for  protection  and 
defence ;  but  really  strengthened  in  substance,  by  the  free 
movements  allowed  her  lungs,  and  the  dropping  of  the 
useless  load  upon  her  back.  Then,  too,  science  and  phi- 
losophy will  again  resume  their  places  at  the  feet  of  the 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH  AND    WORSHIP.  15 

master-pnnciple  in  our  nature,  until  again  driven  away, 
bv  new  disagreements,  to  return  again  by  the  discovery 
of  a  finer  harmony. 

Self-culture  will  never  supersede  worship,  more  than 
golden  lamps  burning  fragrant  oils  will  ever  supersede 
the  sun ;  more  than  digging  and  hoeing  and  planting  will 
supersede  sunshine  and  rain  from  heaven.  Self-culture  ? 
Yes :  by  all  means,  and  in  any  amount,  but  not  as  an  end. 
When  people  look  to  ornamental  gardening  fbr  the  crops 
that  are  to  feed  the  famine-smitten  world,  and  not  to  the 
pastures  and  prairies,  as  they  lie  in  the  light  of  the  com- 
mon sun,  they  will  look  to  self-culture  for  the  characters, 
the  hearts,  the  souls  that  glorify  God  and  lift  and  bless 
the  world.  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  That  is  the  irre- 
pealable  law  of  growth.  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God 
and  his  righteousness,  and  all  other  things  shall  be  added 
unto  you."  Worship,  faith,  duty,  devotion  to  God,  Christ, 
humanity,  to  justice,  freedom,  truth,  —  these,  and  not 
self-culture,  have  lifted  the  race  and  the  world.  Leani, 
acquire,  cultivate,  improve,  develop  yourselves,  by  art, 
music,  reading,  languages,  study,  science,  experience,  but 
do  it  all  in  seeking  to  know  and  love  and  serve  God  and 
man.  Seek  to  know  Christ,  and  you  will  learn  more,  in- 
directly, than  though  you  sought  all  knowledge  without 
this  thirst.  Seek  to  know  God,  and  you  shall  find  all 
science  and  culture  healthful,  sacred,  harmonious,  satisfy- 
ing, and  devout. 

The  break  between  modern  thought  and  ancient  creeds 
and  worship,  thus  considered,  though  serious,  and  worth 
the  utmost  pains  to  heal,  by  all  arts  that  do  not  conceal 
or  salve  over,  without  curing  the  wound,  is  not  perma- 


16    BREAK  BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

nently  discouraging  to  earnest  and  well-considered  Chris- 
tian faith.  Nor  are  all  the  signs  of  the  times  one  way. 
For  —  after  all  that  has  been  said  about  the  restless  and 
dissatisfied  condition  of  the  critical  and  conscious  thought 
of  the  time,  and  the  scepticism  of  the  learned,  or  the 
speculative  class,  or  of  the  new  thinkers  born  of  the  phys- 
ical progress  of  the  age,  and  the  decay  of  worship  in  the 
literary  and  artistic,  the  editorial  and  poetical  circles  —  it 
remains  to  be  said,  that,  leaving  this  important  and  valu- 
able body  of  people  aside,  —  not  badly  employed,  and  not 
without  personal  wan-ant  for  their  doubts  and  withdrawal 
from  positive  institutions,  —  there  remains  a  mighty  major- 
ity, on  whom  the  Christian  religion  and  historical  faith 
and  the  external  church  have  a  vigorous  and  unyielding 
hold ;  whose  practical  instincts  and  grand  common-sense 
and  hereditary  experience  anchor  them  safely  in  positive 
faith,  while  the  scepticism  raves  without  and  blows  itself 
clear,  and  passes  over.  Christianity  first  addressed  itself 
to  common  people,  not  to  avoid  criticism,  but  to  secure 
the  attention  of  the  moral  aflfections  and  the  spiritual 
powers,  instead  of  the  meaner  understanding.  It  has 
lived  on  the  heart  and  conscience  and  needs  and  yearn- 
ings of  the  masses,  from  and  to  whom  practical  wisdom 
and  fixed  institutions  and  simple  faith  always  come  and 
always  return.  Common  sense  is  not  the  seube  that  is 
common,  but  the  sense  that  is  in  common.  And  popular 
faith  is  not  the  faith  of  private  ignorance  massed,  but 
of  that  wisdom  which  alone  enables  ignorant  people  to 
find  a  basis  for  feelings  and  actions  that  all  feel  to  be 
beyond  and  above  their  private  ignorance  or  self-wilL 
The  common  people  were  the  first  to  hear  Christ  gladly : 
they  will  be  the  last  to  hear  any  who  deny  him. 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH  AND    WORSHIP.  17 

It  is  easy  to  exaggerate  the  decline  of  modern  faith,  and 
to  misread  the  tendencies  of  the  time  on  which  we  have 
"been  dwelling.  Thus,  paradox  though  it  seem,  it  were  just 
as  true  to  say  that  more  people  are  deliberately  interested 
in  Christian  faith  and  worship  to-day  than  at  any  previous 
era  in  the  history  of  our  religion,  as  to  asseverate  that 
more  people  doubt  and  regret  it  than  ever  before.  Both 
Btatements  are  true ;  and  they  are  reconciled  only  by  the 
fact  that  it  is  only  in  this  century  that  the  claims  of  faith 
and  worship  have  been  popularly  debated,  or  that  the 
people  were  expected  or  allowed  to  have  any  independent 
opinion  about  them.  The  general  soil  of  our  humanity  is 
for  the  first  time  surveyed  and  sown  ;  and  it  is  found  that, 
"with  more  wheat  than  ever,  there  are  also  more  tares. 
With  more  intelligent  and  convinced  worshippers,  there 
are  more  wilful  or  logical  neglecters  of  worship ;  with 
more  genuine  believers,  more  sceptics ;  with  more  relig- 
ious activity,  more  worldliness.  Without  an  army  in  the 
field,  there  will  be  no  deserters ;  without  a  common  cur- 
rency of  genuine  coin,  no  counterfeits ;  without  a  formid- 
able body  of  affirmers,  few  deniers. 

The  positive  institutions  of  Christianity  decline  in  one 
form,  to  spring  into  new  life  in  other  and  better  forms. 
Doubtless,  fourfold  more  money  is  expended  to-day  upon 
temples  of  worship  than  in  what  have  been  falsely  called 
the  ages  of  faith,  —  rather  the  ages  of  acquiescence.  Re- 
ligion does  not  decline  as  a  costly  interest  of  humanity 
with  the  progress  of  doubt,  fi-eedom,  intelligence,  science, 
and  economic  development.  It  is  a  permanent  and  eternal 
want  of  man,  and  is  always  present,  either  as  a  vast,  over- 
shadowing superstition,  or  as  a  more  or  less  intelligent 
faith     Nowhere  has  it  a  stronger  hold  on  society  than  in 


18  BREAK   BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

free  America,  which  false  prophets,  with  their  faces  to  ^he 
past,  muttered  was  about  to  become  its  grave.  Tliis  busy, 
delving,  utilitarian  country,  without  a  past,  denied  the 
influence  of  ruins  and  the  memory  of  mythic  foundei*R,  a 
land  without  mystery  or  poetry,  —  how  could  so  tender 
and  venerable  a  sentiment  as  reverence  live  in  its  garish 
day?  how  so  sweet  a  nymph  as  Piety  kneel  in  its  muddy 
marts  of  trade,  or  chant  her  prayers  in  its  monotonous 
wilderness,  ringing  with  the  woodman's  axe  or  the  screech- 
ing saw?  But  now  delegates  of  all  the  great  religious 
bodies  in  the  Old  World  are  visiting  America,  for  religious 
instruction  and  inspiration.  Nowhere,  it  is  confessed,  is 
there  to  be  found  a  people  so  generally  interested  in  relig- 
ion, ready  to  make  so  great  sacrifices  for  it,  or  so  deeply 
convinced  that  its  principles  and  inspirations  are  at  the 
root  of  all  national  prosperity.  Nowhere  do  churches 
and  chapels  spring  up  with  such  rapidity,  and  in  such 
numbers;  nowhere  is  the  ministry  as  well  supported,  or 
its  ministers  as  influential  members  of  society ;  nowhere 
do  plain  men  of  business  and  intelligence,  I  do  not  say  of 
science  and  philosophy,  participate  so  freely  in  religious 
worship.  And  since  all  political  compulsion  has  been 
taken  off*  from  the  support  of  religion,  and  it  has  been  made 
purely  voluntary,  its  interests  have  received  even  more 
care.  There  is  little  doubt  that  the  decline  of  religious 
establishments,  the  decay  of  priestly  authority,  the  com- 
plete withdrawal  of  governmental  patronage,  the  discredit- 
ing of  the  principle  of  irrational  fear,  the  dispersion  of 
false  dogmas,  the  clearing  up  of  superstition,  the  groAvth 
of  toleration  and  charity,  instead  of  weakening  true  faith 
or  lessening  public  worship,  will  greatly  increase  and 
Strengthen  both.    For  it  is  not  man's  ignorance,  weakness, 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH  AND    WORSHIP,  19 

and  fears,  that  lead  him  most  certainly  to  Chiistian  wor- 
ship and  faith.  There  is  a  worship  and  a  faith  of  blind- 
ness and  dread ;  but  they  have  no  tendency  to  develop  a 
moral  and  spiritual  sense  of  the  character  of  God,  or  the 
character  becoming  man,  or  to  survive  the  spread  of  gen- 
eral intelligence  and  mental  courage.  If  thought,  if  cour- 
age of  mind,  if  inquiry  and  investigation,  if  experience 
and  learning  and  comprehensive  grasp,  if  light  and  sound 
reason,  and  acquaintance  with  human  nature,  tended  to 
abolish  a  living  God  from  the  heart  and  faith  of  man,  to 
disprove  the  essential  truths  of  Christianity,  or  to  make 
life  and  the  human  soul  less  sacred,  aspiring,  and  religious, 
the  world  would  be  on  its  rapid  way  to  atheism.  But  I 
maintain  that  science  itself,  philosophy  and  free  inquiry, 
however  divorced  from  religious  institutions  and  dogmas, 
were  never  so  humble,  reverential,  and  Christian  as  since 
they  partly  emancipated  themselves  from  theological  or 
ecclesiastical  censure  and  suspicion.  For  ages  science 
knelt  to  religion  as  she  went  to  her  crucible  or  laboratory, 
like  .the  sexton  passing  the  altar  in  a  Catholic  cathedral, 
and  with  as  little  thought  or  feeling  as  he,  simply  to  avert 
censure,  while  she  pursued  inquiries  she  knew  would  ban- 
ish the  superstition  she  pretended  to  honor.  Faith  and 
knowledge  were  at  opposite  poles;  religious  truth  and 
scientific  truth,  finally  and  permanently  amenable  to  differ- 
ent standards.  How  dishonoring  to  religion  was  this  dis- 
trust of  light  and  knowledge !  how  faithless  in  God,  this 
faith  in  him  which  could  not  bear  investigation !  how  com- 
promising to  Christianity,  the  sort  of  trust  which  refuses 
as  blasphemous  the  application  of  all  the  tests  and  proofs 
which  are  required  in  the  certification  of  every  other  im- 
portant conviction !    Religious  faith  rests  on  the  spiritual 


20  BREAK  BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

nature ;  but  its  basis  is  not  less  real  for  being  undemon- 
fitrable,  like  the  axioms  of  mathematics.     That  is  not  real 
faith  which  dares  not  investigate  the  grounds  of  its  own 
being.    It  is  irreverent  to  God,  to  affirm  that  he  does  not 
allow  us  to  try  his  ways ;  to  demand  proofs  of  his  exist- 
ence and  righteous  government ;  to  ask  for  the  credentials 
of  his  alleged  messengere ;  to  doubt  until  we  are  rationally 
convinced.    If  the  artificial  feeling  that  faith  is  opposed 
to  reason ;  religious  truth  to  universal  truth ;  that  belief  in 
unseen  things  is  less  rational  or  less  capable  of  verification 
than  the  radical  beliefs  of  the  senses,  —  if  these  prejudices 
were  sound,  or  not  the  reverse  of  true,  the  world  would  be 
on  its  inevitable  way  to  universal  infidelity  and  godless 
materialism.     But  id  that  the  tendency  of  things  ?    Is  it 
that  religion  is  growing  less  mystic  ?  or  only  science  more 
so?     Have  not  real  and  affecting   mysteries  been  very 
much  transferred  for  the  time  from  theology  to  philoso- 
phy, from  the  priest  to  the  professor  ?    I  doubt  very  much 
whether  men  of  science  are  not  more  truly  on  their  knees 
than  men  of  superstition,  in  our  days.    Never  did  guch 
candor,  such  confessions  of  baffled  insight,  such  a  sense  of 
inscrutable  wisdom  and  power,  such  a  feeling  of  awe  and 
dependence,  seem  to  prevail  in  science  as  now,  when  so 
many  theologians  are  raising  the  eyebrow,  and  seeking  to 
alarm  the  world  at  what  they  call  the  atheism  of  the  most 
truth-loving,  earnest,  and   noble   men.     I  would  sooner 
have  the  scepticism  —  reverent  and  honest  and  fearless  — 
of  these  solemn  and  awed  inquisitors  in  the  inner  shrines 
of  nature,  than  the  faith  of  self-bandaged  priests,  who  are 
thinking  to  light  the  way  to  heaven  with  candles  on  the 
mid-day  altar,  or  to  keep  faith  in  God  alive  only  by  pro- 
cessions in  vestments  of  purple  and  gold 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH  AND    WORSHIP.  21 

Nor  has  Christianity  any  thing  permanently  to  fear  from 
the  disposition  which  now  so  largely  prevails,  to  separate 
it  from  its  accidents,  its  accretions,  and  its  misrepresenta- 
tions. The  days  have  not  long  gone  by  when  men  were 
counted  as  entitled  to  little  respect,  if  they  did  not  wear 
side-swords  and  bag-wigs.  You  recollect  how  our  Benja- 
min Franklin  surprised,  shocked,  and  then  delighted  all 
Europe,  by  appearing  at  the  court  of  France  in  plain 
citizen's  clothes?  Religion,  too,  has  had  her  court-dress, 
and  her  sounding  court-titles,  and  official  robes,  and  cir- 
cuitous ceremonies.  The  world  has  felt  horror-stricken 
whenever  any  brave  and  more  believing  spirit  has  ven- 
tured to  ask  the  meaning  of  one  of  these  theological  tags 
and  titles.  But  how  much  less  wholesome  is  living  water, 
if  drunk  out  of  a  leaf,  or  the  palm  of  one's  hand,  than  if 
presented  on  a  salver,  in  a  curiously  jewelled  flagon,  by  a 
priest  in  livery  ?  How  much  has  theological  ingenuity  of 
statement  and  systematic  divinity,  which  it  takes  the  study 
of  a  life  to  understand,  added  to  the  power  of  the  sim- 
plicity of  Christ  as  he  unfolds  himself  in  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount  ?  Yet,  if  any  one  has  dared  to  be  as  simple  as 
Christ  himself  was  in  his  own  faith,  he  has  been  said  to 
deny  the  Lord  that  bought  him.  It  has  been  called  infi- 
delity, to  think  Christ  meant  only  just  what  he  said,  and 
was  understood  to  say,  in  his  simple  parables.  You  must 
believe  something  not  less  incredible  and  abstruse  than  the 
church  Trinity ;  something  not  less  contrary  to  natural 
justice  and  common  sense  than  the  church  vicarious  atone- 
ment; something  not  less  cruel  and  vindictive  than  the 
eternal  misery  of  all  who  through  ignorance,  birth,  or  acci- 
dent, or  even  perversity  and  pride,  do  not  hear  of,  or  do 
not  accept,  the  blood  of  Christ  as  their  only  hope  of  God's 


22  BREAK  BETWEEN  MODERN  THOUGHT 

mercy  and  forgiveness,  or  you  are  no  Christian.  Now  I 
hold  these  dogmas  themselves  to  be  unchristian  in  origin 
and  influence,  although  held  by  many  excellent  Christian 
men.  I  believe  that  they  are  the  main  obstacles  with 
many  honest,  brave,  and  enlightened  men  in  our  day,  to 
their  interest  in  public  worship;  and  that  millions  repudiate 
the  Church,  and  Christianity,  which  is  a  different  thing, 
simply  because  they  suppose  her  to  be  responsible  for  these 
barnacles  upon  the  sacred  ship.  It  would  be  just  as  rea- 
sonable to  hold  the  Hudson  River  responsible  for  the  filth 
the  sewers  of  the  city  empty  into  it ;  or  to  hold  the  sun 
answerable  for  the  changes  in  its  beams,  caused  by  the 
colored  glass  in  church-windows. 

Christianity,  the  Christianity  of  Christ,  is  simple,  rational, 
intelligible,  independent  of,  yet  in  perfect  harmony,  —  if  it 
be  often  an  unknown  harmony,  —  with  philosophy,  ethics, 
science ;  true,  because  from  God,  the  God  of  nature  as  well 
as  grace ;  true,  because  the  transcript  of  self-evident  and 
self-proving  principles;  true,  because  guaranteed  by  our 
nature ;  true,  because  of  universal  application,  unimpeached 
by  time  or  experience.  It  affirms  the  being  and  authority 
of  a  righteous,  holy,  and  all-loving  God,  whom  man  can 
serve  and  love  and  worship  because  he  is  made  in  his 
image;  can  know,  by  studying  himself;  and  to  whom  man 
is  directly  related  by  reason,  conscience,  and  affections.  It 
affirms  divine  science  and  worship  to  consist  in  obedience 
to  God's  laws,  written  on  man's  heart,  and  for  ever  urged 
by  God's  Spirit.  It  affirms  the  present  and  persistent  pen- 
ally, the  inevitable  consequences,  of  all  moral  and  spiritual 
wrong-doing  and  disobedience;  the  present  and  future 
blessedness  of  well-doing  and  holiness.  It  sets  forth  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  Son  of  God  and  Son  of  Man,  —  appellations 


AND   ANCIENT   FAITH   AND    WORSHIP.  23 

that,  deeply  considered,  really  mean  the  same  thing,  — 
the  direct  messenger,  representative,  and  plenipotentiary 
of  God,  — his  perfect  moral  image.  It  insists  npon  men's 
putting  themselves  to  school  to  Christ,  honoring,  loving, 
and  following  him;  forming  themselves  into  classes, — 
another  name  for  churches,  —  and  by  prayer,  meditation, 
and  study  of  his  life,  informing  their  minds  and  hearts, 
and  shaping  their  wills  in  his  likeness,  which  is  the  ideal 
of  humanity.  Its  clear  object  is  to  dignify  and  ennoble 
man,  by  presenting  God  as  his  father ;  to  show  him  what 
his  nature  is  capable  of,  by  exhibiting  Christ  in  the  loveli- 
ness, sanctity,  and  power  of  his  awful  yet  winning  beauty ; 
to  make  him  ashamed  of  his  own  sins,  and  afraid  of  sin, 
by  arousing  moral  sensibility  in  his  heart ;  safely  to  fence 
in  his  path  by  beautiful  and  sacred  customs,  —  the  tender, 
simple  rites  of  baptism  and  communion ;  the  duty  of  daily 
prayer,  the  use  of  the  Scriptures,  and  respect  for  the  Lord's 
Day. 

Here  is  a  Christianity  without  dogmatic  entanglement ; 
plain,  direct,  earnest,  simple,  defensible,  intelligible  to  a 
child,  yet  deep  enough  to  exhaust  a  life's  study.  For  it  is 
the  simplicities  of  religion  that  are  the  permanent  and 
glorious  mysteries  that  never  tire.  They  draw  our  child- 
hood's wonder,  our  manly  reverence,  and  age's  unquenched 
curiosity  and  awe.  Do  we  ever  tire  of  the  stars,  or  the 
horizon,  or  the  blue  sky,  or  the  dawn,  or  the  sunset,  or 
running  water,  or  natural  gems?  Do  we  ever  tire  of  the 
thought  of  a  holy,  all- wise,  all-good  Spirit  of  spirits,  our 
God  and  our  Father,  or  of  hearing  of  the  reverence  and 
trust,  the  obedience  and  the  love,  due  to  him?  Do  we 
ever  tire  of  Jesus  Christ,  considered  as  the  sinless  image, 
within  human  limitations,  of  God's  love  and  truth  and 


24  BREAK   BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

mercy  and  purity?  Do  we  ever  tire  of  hearing  the  won- 
drous story  of  his  obedient,  disinterested,  and  exalted  lite 
and  sacrifice  ?  or  of  the  call  to  follow  his  graces  and  copy 
his  perfections  into  our  own  hearts  and  lives?  Are  we 
ever  weary  of  hearing  of  the  blessed  hope  of  immortality, 
with  the  comfortable  expectation  of  throwing  off  the  bur- 
den of  our  flesh,  and  winging  our  way  in  spiritual  freedom 
nearer  to  God  and  the  light  of  our  Master's  face  ?  Who 
can  exhaust,  who  can  add  to,  the  real  force  and  attraction 
and  fulness  of  those  truths  and  promises  ?  Truly  received, 
they  grow  with  every  day's  contemplation  and  use ;  they 
fill  the  soul  with  an  increasing  awe  and  joy ;  they  prove 
only  less  common-place  as  they  are  more  nearly  ap- 
proached, more  copious  as  they  are  more  drawn  upon, 
and  more  sacred  as  they  are  more  familiar. 

It  is  the  common,  simple,  universal  truths  that  are 
the  great,  inexhaustible,  powei'ful,  and  never-wearying 
truths.  But  doubtless  it  requires  courage,  personal  con- 
viction, and  self-watchfulness,  to  maintain  personal  piety 
or  religious  institutions  imder  free  and  enlightened  condi* 
tions,  when  they  are  just  beginning.  When  sacramental 
mysteries  are  exploded,  when  the  ofiicial  sanctity  of  the 
ministry  is  disowned,  when  the  technical  and  dogmatic 
conditions  of  acceptance  with  God  are  abandoned,  when 
every  man's  right  of  private  judgment  is  confessed,  when 
common  sense  is  invited  into  the  inner  court  of  faith, 
when  every  man  is  confessed  to  be  a  king  and  a  priest  in 
that  temple  of  God  which  he  finds  in  his  own  body  and 
soul,  when  real,  genuine  goodness  is  owned  as  the  equiva- 
lent of  religion,  then  it  is  evident  that  the  support  of 
religious  institutions,  of  public  worship,  of  the  church  and 
the  ordinances,  must  appeal  to  something  besides  the 


AND   ANCIENT   FAITH  AND    WORSHIP,  25 

ignorance,  the  fears,  the  superstitions,  the  traditions  of 
the  Christian  world.  They  must  fall  b^ck  on  the  practi- 
cal convictions  men  entertain  of  their  intrinsic  impor- 
tance. They  must  commend  themselves  to  the  soberj 
plain,  and  rational  judgment  of  men  of  courage,  reflection, 
and  observation.  They  fall  into  the  same  category  with 
a  government  based  not  on  the  divine  right  of  kings,  or 
the  usages  of  past  generations,  the  artificial  distinctions 
of  ranks  and  classes,  owing  fealty  each  to  that  which  is 
socially  above  itself,  but  resting  on  the  consent  of  the 
governed,  and  deriving  its  authority  and  its  support  from 
the  sense  of  its  usefulness  and  necessity.  We  have  not 
yet  achieved  fully,  in  this  country,  the  passage  of  the 
people  over  from  the  Old  World  status  of  subjects  to  the 
New  World  status  of  citizens.  We  are  in  the  midst  of 
the  glorious  struggle  for  a  State,  a  national  government, 
which  rests  securely  on  the  love  and  service  of  hearts  that 
have  created  it,  and  maintain  and  defend  it  on  purely 
rational  and  intelligible  grounds.  It  is  so  new,  so  ad- 
vanced, so  sublime  an  undertaking,  that  we  often  falter 
and  faint,  as  if  man  were  not  good  enough,  nor  reasonable 
enough,  to  be  entitled  to  such  a  government.  We  often 
doubt  if  we  can  bear  the  dilution  which  the  public  virtue 
and  good  sense  in  our  native  community  sufiers  fi-om  the 
flood  of  ignorance  and  political  superstition  coming  with 
emigrants  from  other  and  coarser  states  of  society  and 
civil  organizations.  We  are  not  half  alive  to  the  glory 
and  grandeur  of  the  experiment  of  free  political  institu- 
tions, and  do  not  press  with  the  zeal  we  ought  the  general 
education,  the  political  training,  the  moral  discipline,  which 
can  alone  save  the  State,  when  it  has  no  foundation  but 
the  good-will,  the  respect,  and  the  practical  valuation  of 


26    BREAK  BETWEEN  MODERN    THOUGHT 

the  people.  But  is  the  State  or  the  nation  ever  so  truly 
divine  as  when  it  is  owned  as  the  voice  of  God,  calling 
all  the  people  to  maintain  equal  justice,  to  recognize  uni- 
vei*sal  interests,  to  embody  Christian  ethics  in  public  law? 
And  despite  our  local  mortifications  and  occasional  mis- 
givings, what  nation  is  now  so  strong  and  firm,  what 
government  so  confident  and  so  promising,  as  our  own  ? 
What  but  freedom,  fidelity  to  rational  principles  and  ideal 
justice,  give  it  this  strength  ?  What  is  it,  on  the  other 
hand,  but  traditions  that  represent  the  ignorance  and 
accidents  and  injustice  of  former  ages,  —  what  is  it  but 
authority  usurped  and  then  consecrated,  social  supersti- 
tions hardened  into  political  creeds,  —  that  is  now  prov- 
ing the  weakness  and  peril  of  European  nationalities, 
and  imperial  or  monarchical  governments  ?  Knowledge, 
science,  literature,  progress,  truth,  liberty,  become  sooner 
or  later  the  enemies  of  all  governments,  and  all  social 
institutions,  not  founded  in  abstract  justice  and  equal 
rights.  Yet  how  fearful  the  transition!  Who  can  con- 
template the  downfall  of  the  French  empire,  and  then 
look  at  the  architects  of  the  new  republic,  working  in 
the  crude  material  of  a  priest-ridden  or  unschooled  popu- 
lace, without  dismay?  Yet  the  process  is  inevitable. 
Democratic  ideas  are  abroad :  they  are  in  the  air.  They 
corrode  all  the  base  metal  they  touch;  and  thrones  and 
titles,  and  legalized  classes,  and  exceptional  prerogatives, 
are  predestined  to  a  rapid  disintegration.  How  blessed 
the  nation  that  has  transferred  its  political  homage  from 
traditions  to  principles;  from  men  or  families,  to  rights 
and  duties ;  from  a  compromise  with  ancient  inequality 
and  wrong,  to  an  affirmation  of  universal  justice  and  right  I 
Yet  never  had  a  people  so  grave  and  so  constant  and  so 


AND   ANCIENT   FAITH  AND    WORSHIP.  27 

serious  duties  as  we  have.  And  there  is  nothing  in  our 
principles  or  government  that  must  save  our  country,  in 
spite  of  the  failure  of  political  virtue,  intelligence,  and 
devotion,  in  our  private  citizens.  God  has  buried  many- 
republics,  because  the  people  were  unworthy  of  them. 
Their  fjiilure  was  no  disproof  of  the  principle  involved, 
but  only  an  evidence  that  the  people  fell  wholly  below 
their  privileges  and  ideas.  America  may  add  another  to 
this  list  of  failures,  but  can  do  nothing  to  discredit  the 
truth  and  glory  and  final  triumph  of  the  democratic  idea. 
I  do  not  believe  we  shall  fail ;  on  the  contrary,  I  have  an 
increasing  faith  in  the  sense  and  virtue  and  ability  of  the 
people  of  this  country.  But  the  success  of  American  polit- 
ical institutions  depends  very  much  on  the  success  of  the 
Christian  and  religious  institutions  that  match  them,  *and 
are  alone  adapted  to  them.  We  cannot  long  guarantee 
religious  institutions,  in  a  country  of  free  schools,  public 
lyceums,  unlicensed  newspapers,  unimpeded  inquiry,  and 
absolute  religious  equality,  if  they  do  not  rest  on  grounds 
of  reason  and  experience  and  sober  truth.  Mere  author- 
ity, mere  ecclesiasticism,  mere  sacred  usages,  mere  mys- 
tery, or  mere  dogmatism,  will  not  long  protect  the  creeds 
and  formularies  of  the  church.  They  are  undergoing  a 
species  of  dry-rot,  like  to  that  which  the  rafters  of  my 
own  church  lately  suffered  from  the  confinement  and 
unventilated  bondage  in  iron  boxes  in  which  their  ends 
had  been  placed  for  greater  security.  They  wanted  air 
and  light,  and  more  confidence  in  their  inherent  sound- 
ness ;  and,  if  they  had  been  permitted  it,  they  would  have 
lasted  a  hundred  years.  It  is  precisely  so  with  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  boxed  up  in  creeds.  It  grows  musty,  worm- 
eaten,  and  finally  loses  its  life  and  hold.    A  certain  timid 


28  BREAK  BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

and  constitutionally  religious  portion  of  the  community 
will  cherish  any  creed  or  usage  which  is  time-honored ; 
and  the  less  robust  and  decisive  minds  of  the  time  will 
rally  about  what  is  established  and  venerable,  however 
out  of  date,  incredible,  or  irrational.  But  it  is  Avhat  is 
going  on  in  the  independent  and  free  mind  of  the  common 
people,  that  should  have  our  most  serious  regard.  Whaii 
is  the  faith  of  the  fairly  educated  young  men  and  women 
who  are  now  springing  up  in  America?  Certainly,  it  is 
not,  in  the  more  gifted  or  the  most  thouglitful  part  of  it, 
in  sympathy  with  any  form  of  sacramental  or  dogmatic 
Christianity.  It  is  not  Trinitarian  ;  it  is  not  biblical ;  it 
is  not  technical.  It  is  hardly  Christian !  It  is  bold,  inde- 
pendent, inquisitive,  questioning  every  thing,  and  resolute 
in  its  rights  of  opinion.  It  is  alienated  from  church  and 
worship  to  a  great  degree.  It  suspects  the  importance  of 
religious  institutions,  and  reads  and  thinks  and  worships 
in  books  of  poetry  and  philosophy.  A  timid  heart  might 
easily  grow  alarmed  at  the  symptoms,  and  think  that 
irreligion,  and  decay  of  worship  and  fellowship  in  the 
Christian  Church,  were  upon  us.  But  sad  and  discom-aging 
as  the  present  symptoms  are  to  many,  I  see  more  to  hope 
than  fear  in  these  tendencies.  They  are  a  rebuke  to  for- 
mal and  technical  theology,  —  to  mere  ecclesiasticism,  to 
outworn  ways.  They  are  bringing  a  violent  assault  upon 
the  bard  crust  of  a  stifling  belief,  of  which  the  world  must 
get  rid  before  the  gospel  of  Christ  can  emerge,  and  be 
received  in  its  primitive  simplicity.  It  is  the  only  way  in 
which  faith  is  ever  purified,  —  by  doubt  and  denial.  The 
gospel  requires  a  new  statement.  It  must  come  out  of  its 
ecclesiastical  bulwarks.  It  must  abandon  its  claim  to  any 
other  kind  of  judgment  than  all  other  truth  claims  and 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH  AND    WORSHIP.  29 

allows.  It  must  place  itself  by  the  side  of  science,  ex- 
perience, and  philosophy,  and  defy  their  tests.  It  must 
invite  the  most  rigid  investigation.  It  must  claim  its 
foundations  in  eternal  truth.  It  must  prove  its  efficiency, 
not  with  the  weak,  but  the  strong ;  not  with  the  ignorant, 
but  the  learned ;  not  with  the  bound,  but  the  free.  And 
then  it  will  recover  its  lost  ground,  and  take  a  stronger 
and  diviner  position  than  it  ever  had  before. 

This  is  the  work  that  Liberal  Christianity  has  in  hand  ; 
a  difficult,  slow,  and  often  discouraging  work,  but  one 
that  is  intensely  patriotic,  intensely  ])ractical,  intensely 
necessary.  That  which  was  the  mere  fortress  into  which 
the  enlightened  and  free-minded  people  of  Massachusetts 
fled  for  refuge  fi'om  ecclesiastical  tyranny,  a  half-century 
ago,  —  Unitarianism,  —  is  now  become  a  recognized  cru- 
sade for  religious  liberty  for  the  American  people.  The 
liberty  is  coming  fast  enough,  and  surely  enough ;  but  will 
the  worship,  will  the  Christian  seriousness,  will  the  fellow- 
ship of  faith,  will  the  piety  that  gives  aromatic  beauty  as 
well  as  health  to  the  soul,  come  with  it  ?  If  it  were  not 
to  come,  liberty  would  be  only  license  and  secularity  and 
worldliness.  Every  firm,  well-ordered,  earnest  and  relig- 
ious congregation  of  the  liberal  faith ;  exhibiting  stable- 
ness,  order,  solemnity;  doing  religious  work  among  the 
poor,  and  cultivating  piety  in  its  own  youth;  making 
sacrifices  to  its  own  ideas,  and  upholding  its  own  wor- 
ship,—  is  an  argument  of  the  most^olid  kind,  an  example 
of  contagious  power,  an  encouragement  of  priceless 
cheer,  for  those  who  think  that  Christian  liberty  neces- 
sarily leads  to  license  and  decay  of  worship;  or  that 
Christ  is  less  revered  and  loved  and  trusted  when  he 
is  accepted  in  the  derived  and  dependent  character  he 


30    BREAK  BETWEEN  MODERN   THOUGHT 

claimed,  —  the  only  tenable,  rational,  possible  character 
in  which  a  century  hence  he  can  be  received  by  any 
unsuperstitious  persons.  We  have  a  sacred  privilege,  a 
glorious  opportunity.  We  only  need  to  show  ourselves 
warm,  earnest,  united,  attached  to  worship,  fruitful  in 
piety,  devoted  to  good  works,  zealous  for  God's  glory 
and  man's  redemption,  sincere,  humble,  yet  rational  and 
free  followers  of  Christ,  to  Tvin  an  immense  victory  for  the 
gospel  in  this  inquiring  and  doubting  age.  I  have  no 
great  immediate  hopes,  but  hopes  beyond  expression  in 
the  gracious  development  of  another  generation.  I  bate 
not  a  jot  of  heart  or  hope  that  absolute  liberty  in  religion 
will  favor  the  growth  of  piety,  as  much  as  political  fi*ee- 
dom  has  favored  the  growth  of  order  and  peace  and  pros- 
perity. Oh  !  not  a  thousandth  part  the  power  of  Christian 
truth  and  righteousness  has  yet  been  shown  in  the  world. 
The  love  of  God,  the  love  of  man,  have  only  begun  their 
glorious  mission.  Christ  yet  waits  for  his  true  throne. 
Humanity  is  just  come  of  age,  and,  with  some  wild  fes- 
tivity, is  claiming  its  heritage.  But  God  is  with  and  over 
it;  and  Jesus  Christ  is  its  inspirer  and  guide.  He  will 
not  lose  his  headship.  He  will  be  more  followed  when 
less  worshipped ;  more  truly  loved  when  less  idolized ; 
more  triumphant  when  more  clearly  understood !  Dark- 
ness, wrath,  threats,  enchantments,  sacraments,  prostra- 
tions, humiliations  of  reason,  emotional  transports,  affec- 
tations of  belief,  belief  for  its  own  sake,  —  none  of  these 
things  are  truly  favorable  to  Christ's  kingdom  or  the  glory 
of  his  gospel.  God  is  light,  and  in  him  is  no  darkness  at 
all.  Christ  is  the  Sun  of  righteousness.  When  reason, 
conscience,  affection,  rule  the  world ;  when  love  and  jus- 
tice, and  mild  and  tender  views  of  life  and  humanity,  of 


AND   ANCIENT  FAITH  AND    WORSHIP.  31 

God  and  Christ,  displace  the  cruel  terrors  and  superstitions 
that  have  survived  the  social  and  political  meliorations 
of  the  age,  we  shall  begin  to  see  that  love  is  the  fulfilling 
of  the  law,  and  liberty  of  thought  the  greatest  friend  of 
worship,  the  finest  result  of  Christ's  coming,  and  the 
throne  from  which  he  commands  the  whole  human  heart 
and  history. 


A    TRUE    THEOLOGY    THE    BASIS 


HUMAN    PROGRESS. 


By   JAMES   FREEMAN    CLARKE. 


A    TRUE    THEOLOGY    THE    BASIS 


OF 


HUMAN   PROGRESS. 


'T^HE  subject  of  the  present  lecture  is  "  A  True  The- 
-*■  ology  the  Basis  of  Human  Progress."  And,  in 
order  to  strike  the  key-note,  and  to  indicate  the  object  at 
which  I  aim,  I  will  read  four  or  five  passages  from  the  New 
Testament,  which  describe  such  a  Theology  in  its  spirit 
and  root. 

The  Apostle  Paul  says :  *  "  I  count  not  myself  to  have 
apprehended:  but  this  one  thing  I  do,  forgetting  those 
things  which  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto  those 
things  which  are  before,  I  press  toward  the  mark."  So  he 
declares  himself  a  Progressive  Christian. 

Again  he  says :  *  "  We  know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy 
[or  teach]  in  part.  But  when  that  which  is  perfect  is  come, 
then  that  which  is  in  part  shall  be  done  away."  So  he 
declares  that  all  intellectual  statements,  his  own  included, 
are  relative  and  provisional.  He  is  here  speaking,  doubt- 
less, not  of  rational  insights,  but  of  the  insight  when 
elaborated  by  the  intellect  into  a  statement ;  not  of  intui- 
tional knowledge,  but  that  which  comes  from  reflection. 
In  regard  to  all  such  propositions,  he  would  accept  the 
1  Phil.  iii.  13.  »  1  Cor.  xiii.  9,  10. 


36  A    TRUE    THEOLOGY   THE   BASIS 

modern  doctrine  of  the  Relativity  of  Knowledge ;   thus 
cutting  up  by  the  roots  the  poisonous  weed  of  Bigotry. 

Again:  "Brethren,  be  not  children  in  understanding: 
howbeit,  in  malice  be  ye  children,  but  in  understanding  be 
men."  ^  He  thus  requires  and  authorizes  a  manly,  intelli- 
gent Theology. 

Again :  "  Who  also  hath  made  us  able  ministers  of  the 
New  Testament ;  not  of  the  letter,  but  of  the  spirit :  for 
the  letter  killeth,  but  the  spirit  giveth  life."**  He  here 
rejects  the  Theology  of  the  letter,  including  the  doctrine 
of  lateral  Inspiration. 

Again :  "  God  hath  not  given  us  the  spirit  of  fear ;  but 
of  power,  and  of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind."  * 

My  Thesis  to-night  is  not  a  truism;  my  argument  is 
not  unnecessary  or  uncalled  for.  Nothing  is  more  com- 
mon than  to  undervalue  the  importance  of  Theology;  to 
regard  it  as  having  no  bearing  on  life,  no  influence  on 
human  progress,  no  causative  power  in  regard  to  civiliza- 
tion. Mr.  Buckle,  one  of  the  most  recent  English  philo- 
sophical historians,  contends  that  Theology  is  the  result 
rather  than  the  cause  of  national  character;  that  it  is 
merely  symptomatic  of  the  condition  of  a  people.  If  they 
are  in  a  good  condition,  they  have  a  good  Theology ;  if  in 
a  bad  condition,  a  bad  one.  He  even  thinks  it  owing  to  a 
mistaken  zeal  that  Christians  try  to  propagate  then*  relig- 
ion, because  he  believes  that  savages  cannot  become  Chris- 
tians. Civilization,  Mr.  Buckle  supposes,  depends  greatly 
upon  soil,  upon  climate,  upon  food,  upon  the  trade- winds ; 
but  not  much  upon  religious  ideas.  He  says  that,  in 
England,  "theological  interests  have  long  ceased  to  be 
supreme."  "The  time  for  these  things  has  passed  by." 
1  1  Cor.  xiv.  20.  «  2  C!or.  iii.  6.  «  2  Tim.  i.  7. 


OF  HUMAN  PROGRESS.  37 

And  this  is  also  a  very  common  opinion  among  ourselves. 
Many  reformers  have  a  notion  that  we  have  done  with 
Theology,  that  we  can  do  without  it.  Some  men  of 
science  tell  us  that  Theology  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
advance  of  civilizaiion,  but  that  this  comes  from  discovery 
in  the  sphere  of  physical  science.  But  I  believe  that 
the  one  thing  which  retards  the  progress  of  reform  is  a 
false  philosophy  concerning  God  and  man,  a  false  view  of 
God's  ideas  concerning  this  world  ;  and  that  the  one  thing 
needful  for  Human  Progress  is  a  deeper,  higher,  broader 
view  of  God  and  his  ways.  And  I  hope  to  be  able  to  show 
some  grounds  for  this  opinion. 

The  religious  instinct  in  man  is  universal.  Some  indi- 
viduals and  some  races  possess  more  of  it,  and  others  less ; 
but  the  history  of  mankind  shows  that  religion  in  some 
form  is  one  of  the  most  indestructible  elements  of  human 
nature.  But  whether  this  religious  instinct  shall  appear 
as  feith  or  as  fanaticism ;  whether  it  shall  be  a  blind  en- 
thusiasm or  an  intelligent  conviction ;  whether  it  shall  be 
a  tormenting  superstition  or  a  consoling  peace ;  whether  it 
shall  lead  to  cruel  persecutions  or  to  heavenly  benevolence ; 
all  this,  and  more,  depends  on  Theology.  Religion  is  a 
blind  instinct :  the  ideas  of  God,  man,  duty,  destiny,  which 
determine  its  development,  constitute  Theology. 

The  same  law  holds  concerning  Conscience  and  Ethics. 
Conscience  in  the  form  of  a  moral  instinct  is  universal  in 
man.  In  every  human  breast  there  is  a  conviction  that 
something  is  right  and  something  wrong ;  but  what  that 
right  and  wrong  is  depends  on  Ethics.  In  every  language 
of  man,  there  are  words  which  imply  ought  and  ought 
not,  duty,  responsibility,  merit,  and  guilt.  But  what  men 
believe  they  ought  to  do,  or  ought  not  to  do,  —  that  de- 


88  A    TRUE   THEOLOGY   THE   BASIS 

pends  on  the  education  of  their  conscience;  that  is,  on 
their  Ethics. 

Conscience,  like  religion,  is  man's  strength,  and  his 
weakness.  Conscience  makes  cowards  of  us  all ;  but  it  is 
the  strong-siding  champion  which  makes  heroes  of  us  all. 
Savages  are  cruel,  pirates  are  cruel ;  but  they  cannot  be 
as  cruel  as  a  good  man,  with  a  misguided  conscience. 
The  most  savage  heart  has  some  touch  of  human  kindness 
left  in  it,  which  nothing  can  quite  conquer,  —  nothing  but 
conscience.  That  can  make  man  as  hard  as  Alpine  rock,  jis 
cold  as  Greenland  ice.  The  torture-rooms  and  aiUos  dafe 
of  the  Inquisition  suipass  the  cruelties  of  the  North  Ameri- 
can Indian.  The  cruelties  of  instinct  are  faint  compared 
with  the  cruelties  of  conscience.  Now  what  guides  con- 
Bcience  to  good  or  to  evil  ?  Theology,  in  the  form  of 
Ethics,  is  the  guide  of  conscience.  For,  as  soon  as  man 
believes  in  a  God,  he  believes  in  the  authority  of  his  God 
to  direct  and  control  his  actions.  Whatever  his  God  tells 
him  to  do  must  be  right  for  him  to  do.  Therefore  religion 
in  its  inward  form  is  either  a  debasing  and  tormenting 
superstition  or  a  glad  faith,  according  to  the  Theology 
with  which  it  is  associated.  And  religion,  in  its  outward 
form,  is  either  an  impure  and  cruel  despotism  or  an  ele- 
vating morality,  according  to  the  idea  of  God  and  Duty 
which  guide  it;  that  is,  according  to  its  associated  The- 
ology. 

Some  persons,  like  Lucretius,  seeing  the  evils  of  Super- 
stition, Bigotry,  and  Fanaticism,  and  perceiving  that  these 
have  their  root  in  religion,  have  endeavored  to  uproot 
religion  itself.  But  could  this  be  effected,  which  is  impos- 
sible, it  would  be  like  wishing  to  get  rid  of  the  atmosphere, 
because  it  is  sometimes  subject  to  tempests,  and  sometimes 


OF  HUMAN  PROGRESS.  39 

infected  with  malaria.  Religion  is  the  atmosphere  of  the 
soul,  necessary  to  the  healthful  action  of  its  life,  to  be 
purified,  but  not  renounced. 

Every  one  has  a  Theology,  who  has  even  a  vague  idea 
of  a  G  )d ;  and  every  one  has  this  who  has  an  idea  of  some- 
thing higher  and  better  than  himself,  higher  and  better 
than  any  of  his  fellow-men.  The  Atheist  therefore  may 
have  a  God,  though  he  does  not  call  him  so.  For  God  is 
not  a  word,  not  a  sound ;  he  is  the  Infinite  Reality  which 
we  see,  more  or  less  dimly,  more  or  less  truly,  rising  above 
us,  and  above  all  our  race.  The  nature  of  this  ideal  de- 
termines for  each  of  us  what  we  believe  to  be  right  or 
wrong;  and  so  it  is  that  our  Theology  rules  our  con- 
science, and  that  our  conscience  determines  with  more  or 
less  supremacy  the  tendency  and  stress  of  our  life. 

No  one  can  look  at  the  History  of  the  Human  Race 
without  seeing  what  an  immense  influence  religion  has 
had  in  human  affairs.  Every  race  or  nation  which  has 
left  its  mark  on  Human  Progress  has  itself  been  under  the 
commanding  control  of  some  great  religion.  The  ancient 
civilization  of  India  was  penetrated  to  the  core  by  the 
institutions  of  Brahmanism ;  the  grand  development  of 
Egyptian  knowledge  was  guided  by  its  priesthood;  the 
culture  of  China  has  been  the  meek  disciple  of  Confucius 
for  two  thousand  years.  Whenever  any  nation  emerges 
out  of  darkness  into  light,  —  Assyria,  Persia,  Greece,  or 
Rome,  —  it  comes  guided  and  inspired  by  some  mighty 
religion.  The  testimony  of  History  is  that  religion  is  the 
most  potent  of  all  the  powers  which  move  and  govern 
human  action. 

Such  is  the  story  of  the  past.  How  is  it  at  the  present 
time?     Has  mankind  outgrown  the  influence  of  religion 


40  A    TRUE    THEOLOGY    THE   BASIS      ^ 

to-day  ?  Has  the  spread  of  knowledge,  the  advance  ot 
science,  the  development  of  literature,  art,  culture,  weak- 
ened its  power  in  Christendom  ?  Never  was  there  so 
much  of  time,  thought,  effort,  wealth,  consecrated  to  tlie 
Christian  Church  as  there  is  now.  Both  branches  of  that 
Church,  the  Catholic  and  Protestant,  are  probably  stronger 
to-day  than  they  ever  were  before.  Some  few  persons  can 
live  apart  from  religious  institutions ;  but  mankind  cannot 
dispense  with  religion,  and  they  need  it  organized  into  a 
Church  or  Churches. 

Religion  is  a  great  power,  and  wnll  remain  so.  But 
what  is  to  detennine  the  character  of  this  power  ?  It  may 
impede  progress  or  advance  it ;  it  may  encourage  thought 
or  repress  it ;  it  may  diffuse  knowledge  or  limit  it ;  it  may 
make  men  free  or  hold  them  as  slaves ;  it  may  be  a  gener- 
ous, manly,  free,  and  moral  religion  or  a  narrow,  bigoted, 
intolerant,  fanatical,  sectarian,  persecuting  superstition. 
It  has  been  both :  it  is  both  to-day.  What  is  to  decide 
which  it  shall  be  ?  I  answer,  its  Theology ;  the  views  it 
holds  concerning  God,  man,  duty,  immortality,  the  way  and 
the  means  of  salvation.  Religion  is  an  immense  power: 
how  that  power  is  to  be  directed  depends  on  Theology. 

Proceeding  then  with  my  theme,  I  shall  endeavor  to 
Bhow  how  false  ideas  in  Theology  tend  to  check  the  prog- 
ress of  humanity,  and  afterward  how  true  ideas  always 
carry  mankind  onward  along  an  ascending  path  of  im- 
provement. 

But  fii-st  let  me  say  that  my  criticism  is  of  ideas,  not  of 
sects,  churches,  nor  individuals.  By  a  true  Theology,  I 
mean  neither  a  Unitarian  nor  a  Trinitarian  Theology, 
neither  a  Catholic  nor  a  Protestant  Theology.  I  do  not 
mean  Calvinism  nor  Arminianism.     I  have  nothing  to  say 


OF   HUMAN  PROGRESS.  41 

concerning  these  distinctions,  however  important  they 
may  be ;  and  I,  for  one,  consider  them  important.  But  I 
refer  to  a  distinction  more  important  still,  lying  back  of 
these  distinctions,  lying  beneath  them;  a  difference  not 
of  opinions  so  much  as  of  ideas  and  spirit. 

By  a  true  Theology,  I  mean  a  manly  Theology,  as 
opposed  to  a  childish  one ;  a  free,  as  opposed  to  a  servile 
one ;  a  generous,  as  opposed  to  a  selfish  one ;  a  reasonable 
and  intelligent  Theology,  as  opposed  to  a  superstitious 
one. 

By  a  true  Theology,  I  mean  one  which  regards  God  as  a 
father,  and  man  as  a  brother ;  which  looks  upon  this  life 
ns  a  preparation  for  a  higher;  which  believes  that  God 
giA  OS  us  freedom,  inspires  our  reason,  and  is  the  author  of 
wliatever  is  generous,  self-forgetting,  and  noble.  I  find 
sometlnng  of  tliis  Theology  in  all  sects  and  churches ; 
from  the  Roman  Catholic  at  one  extreme,  to  the  Univer- 
Balists  and  Unitaiians,  the  Spiritualists  and  Come-outers, 
at  the  other.  And  the  opposite,  the  false  Theology,  dis- 
honorable to  God,  degrading  to  man,  I  find  in  all  sects, 
and  accompanying  all  creeds.  And  if  I  shall  show,  as 
truth  compels  me  to  show,  that  certain  parties  and  per- 
cons  are  specially  exposed  to  danger  in  one  or  another 
direction,  I  wish  distinctly  to  state  my  belief  that  sincere 
.and  earnest  men  continually  rise  abcYC  the  contagion  of 
their  position,  and  live  untainted  in  an  atmosphere  which 
may  have  in  it  some  special  tendency  to  disease. 

One  false  idea  in  Theology,  which  opposes  human 
progress,  is  that  Pantheistic  view  of  the  Deity,  which 
aOscs  sight  of  his  personality,  and  conceives  of  him  as  a 
blind,  infinite  force,  pervading  all  N'ature,  and  carrying  on 
the  universe,  but  without  intelligence  and  without  love. 


42  A    TRUE    THEOLOGY   THE   BASIS 

I  know  infleed  that  many  views  have  been  accused  of 
being  Pantheism  which  are  not.  I  do  not  beheve  in  a  God 
outside  of  the  universe.  I  believe  that  he  is  one  "  in  whom 
we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being,"  one  "  from  whom, 
and  through  whom,  and  to  whom  are  all  things,"  —  a  per- 
petual Creator,  immanent  in  his  world.  But  this  view  is 
quite  consistent  with  a  belief  in  his  personal  being,  in  his 
mtelligent,  conscious,  loving  purpose.  Without  such  a 
belief,  hope  dies  out  of  the  heart ;  and  without  hope 
mankind  loses  the  energy  which  creates  progress.  Unless 
we  have  an  intelligent  Friend  who  governs  the  universe,  it 
will  seem  to  be  moving  blindly  on  toward  no  divine  end ; 
and  this  thought  eats  out  the  courage  of  the  soul. 

In  some  poetical  natures,  as  in  the  case  of  Shelley,  this 
Pantheism  takes  the  fonu  of  faith  in  a  spirit  of  beauty,  or 
love,  or  intellectual  power,  pervading  all  things.  In  more 
prosaic  minds  it  becomes  a  belief  in  law,  divorced  from 
love.  It  turns  the  universe  into  a  machine,  worked  by 
forces  whose  mutual  action  unfolds  and  carries  on  the  mag- 
nificent Cosmos.  Often  this  view  comes,  by  way  of  a  reac- 
tion, against  an  excessive  Personality  of  Will.  When  the 
Christian  Church  speaks  of  the  Deity  as  an  Infinite  Power 
outside  of  the  world,  who  creates  it  and  carries  it  on 
according  to  some  contrivance,  of  which  his  own  glory 
is  the  end,  it  is  perhaps  natural  that  men  should  go  to 
the  other  extreme  and  omit  person,  will,  and  design  from 
their  conception  of  Deity.  But  thus  they  encounter  other 
and  opposite  dangers. 

A  gospel  of  mere  law  is  no  sufficient  gospel.  It 
teaches  prudence,  but  omits  Providence.  This  utilita- 
rian doctrine,  which  reduces  every  thing  to  law,  —  which 
makes  the  Deity  only  a  Great  Order,  not  a  Father  or 


OF  HUMAN  PROGRESS.  43 

Friend,  — would  soon  put  a  stop  to  the  deepest  spring  of 
human  progress.  It  takes  faith  and  hope  out  of  our  life, 
and  substitutes  observation,  calculation,  and  i^rudence. 
But  the  case  of  Ecclesiastes  and  of  Faust  teaches  us 
what  comes  from  knowledge  emptied  of  faith.  He  who 
increases  such  knowledge  increases  sorrow.  The  un- 
known, wonderful  Father ;  the  divine,  mysterious  Infinite ; 
the  gi-eat  supernatural  power  and  beauty  above  Nature, 
and  above  all,  — these  alone  make  life  tolerable.  Without 
this  brooding  sense  of  a  Divine  love,  of  a  Heaven  beyond 
this  world,  of  a  Providence  guiding  human  affairs,  men 
would  not  long  have  the  heart  to  study,  because  all 
things  would  seem  to  be  going  nowhere.  Without  such 
a  Heavenly  Friend  to  trust,  such  an  immortal  progress  to 
hope,  all  things  would  seem  to  revolve  in  a  circle.  Not 
to  believe  in  something  more  than  a  God  of  Law  is  to  be 
without  God  in  the  world,  is  to  be  without  hope.  And 
hope  is  the  spring  of  all  progress,  intellectual  progress  as 
well  as  all  other.  Intellect,  divorced  from  faith,  at  last  kills 
intellect  itself,  by  destroying  its  inner  motive.  It  ends  in 
a  doctrine  of  despair,  which  cries  continually,  "  What  is 
the  use  ? "  and  finds  no  answer.  And  so  the  soul  dies 
the  only  death  the  soul  can  die,  —  the  death  of  torpor  and 
inaction. 

Another  false  idea  in  Theology,  which  interferes  with 
human  progi'ess,  is  that  of  ecclesiastical  authority  in  mat- 
ters of  faith  and  practice.  When  the  Church  comes 
between  the  soul  and  God,  and  seeks  to  be  its  master 
rather  than  its  sei-vant,  it  takes  from  it  that  direct  respon- 
sibility to  God,  which  is  one  of  the  strongest  motives  for 
human  effort.  I  know  that  this  has  always  been  done 
from  a  sincere  desire,  at  any  rate  in  the  beginning,  to  save 


44  A    TRUE    THEOLOGY   THE   BASIS 

men  from  apparent  dangers.  The  Church  has  assumed 
authority,  in  order  to  do  good  with  it.  It  has  commanded 
men  not  to  think  for  themselves,  lest  they  should  err.  But 
God  has  meant  that  we  should  be  liable  to  error,  in  order 
that  we  should  learn  to  avoid  it  by  increased  strength. 
Therefore  Christ  said,  "  Be  not  called  Rabbi ;  be  not  called 
Masters,  and  call  no  man  father  on  earth."  His  church, 
and  his  apostles,  and  he  himself  are  here,  not  to  be  mas- 
ters of  the  soul,  but  to  be  its  servants. 

The  Roman  Catholic  Church  is  a  great  organization, 
which  has  gradually  grown  up,  during  a  thousand  years, 
the  object  of  which  has  been  to  educate  men  in  Christian 
faith  and  Christian  conduct.  It  has  sincerely  endeavoied 
to  do  this.  But,  unfortunately,  it  took  a  narrow  view  of 
Christian  education ;  supposing  that  it  meant  instruction 
and  guidance,  restraint  and  tuition,  but  not  development. 
It  has  magnified  its  own  authority,  in  order  to  produce 
docility  in  its  pupils.  It  has  not  allowed  them  freedom 
of  inquiry  nor  liberty  of  conscience.  It  has  not  said,  like 
Paul,  "  Be  not  children  in  understanding ; "  on  the  con- 
trary, it  has  preferred  to  keep  them  children,  so  as  to 
guide  them  more  easily.  It  has  not  said,  with  Paul, 
"Stand  fast  in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ  has  made 
you  free;"  for  it  has  come  to  hate  the  very  name  of 
liberty.  What  is  the  result?  You  may  read  it  to-day 
in  France,  where,  as  Mr.  Coquerel  tells  us,  that  Church  has 
prevented  the  steady  development  of  free  institutions.  It 
has  always  supported  the  principle  of  authority  in  the 
State,  as  the  natural  ally  of  authority  in  the  Church. 
There  are  so  few  republicans  in  France  to-day,  because 
the  people  have  been  educated  by  the  Church  to  blind 
submission.    The  priests  are  not  to  blame,  the  people  are 


OF  HUMAN  PROGRESS,  45 

not:  it  is  the  Roman  Catholic  Theology  which  is  to 
blame.  That  Theology  teaches  that  the  soul  is  saved  by 
the  reception  of  external  sacraments,  and  not  by  vital, 
independent  convictions  of  truth.^ 

Or,  if  you  wish  another  illustration  of  the  same  thing, 
look  at  New  York.  Why  have  republican  institutions  in 
New  York  almost  proved  a  failure?  Why  were  a  few 
robbers  able  to  take  possession  of  the  city,  and  plunder 
the  citizens?  Because  they  could  control  the  votes  of 
the  Irish  Catholics  in  a  mass ;  because  this  vast  body  of 
voters  were  unable  to  vote  independently,  or  to  under- 
stand the  first  duties  of  a  free  citizen.  And  why  was 
this  ?  Not  because  the  Irish  are  naturally  less  intelligent 
than  the  New-Englanders,  the  English,  the  Germans. 
No ;  but  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  which  has  had  the 
supreme  control  over  the  Irish  conscience  and  intellect 
for  a  thousand  years,  has  chosen  to  leave  them  uneducated. 
Of  course,  the  Roman  Church,  if  it  had  pleased  to  do  so, 
might  long  ago  have  made  the  Irish  nation  as  enlightened 
as  any  in  Europe.  But  its  Theology  taught  that  educa- 
tion might  lead  them  into  heresy,  and  so  take  them  out 
of  the  true  Church,  and  that  ignorance  in  the  Church  was, 
infinitely  better  than  any  amount  of  intellectual  and  moral 

1  The  proof  of  this  may  be  amply  found  in  the  famous  Encyclical  and 
Syllabus  of  Pius  IX.,  Dec.  8th,  1864.  In  the  Syllabus  he  denounces  as 
errors  such  propositions  as  the  following :  — 

That  "ever}' man  is  free  to  embrace  and  profess  that  religion  which, 
guided  by  the  light  of  reason,  he  holds  to  be  true."     §  15. 

That  "one  macy  well  hope,  at  least,  for  the  eternal  salvation  of  those  wh« 
are  in  no  wise  in  the  true  Church  of  Christ."     §  17. 

That  "  the  Church  has  no  power  to  employ  force."     §  24. 

That  "men  emigrating  to  Catholic  countries  should  be  permitted  th» 
public  exercise  of  their  own  several  forms  of  worship."    §  78. 

That  "  the  Roman  Pontiff  can  and  ought  to  reconcile  and  harmonize 
himself  with  progress,  with  liberalism,  and  with  modem  civilization."    §  80. 


46  A    TRUE    THEOLOGY   THE   BASIS 

culture  out  of  it.  The  fatal  principle  of  Roman  Catholic 
Theology  —  "Out  of  the  true  Church  there  is  no  salva- 
tion"—  has  been  the  ruin  of  the  Irish  nation  for  hundreds 
of  years,  and  has  very  nearly  entailed  ruin  on  our  own. 

Do  you  wonder  that  the  priests  oppose  our  school  sys- 
tem ?  If  I  were  a  Roman  Catholic  priest,  I  should  oppose 
it  too.  Should  I  run  the  risk  of  poisoning  my  child's  body 
by  accepting  as  a  gift  a  little  better  food  than  that  I  am 
able  to  buy  ?  And  shall  I  risk  the  vastly  greater  evil  of 
poisoning  its  soul,  by  allowing  it  to  be  tainted  with  heret- 
ical books  and  teachers  in  free  schools?  The  Roman 
Catholic  priest  is  consistent:  it  is  the  Theology  which 
teaches  salvation  by  sacraments  that  is  to  blame.  It  is  a 
theology  which  naturally,  logically,  necessarily,  stands 
opposed  to  human  progress.  It  says,  "In  order  to  be 
children  in  malice,  you  must  also  be  children  in  under- 
standing." 

When  the  Protestant  Reformation  came,  it  brought 
with  it  a  manly  Theology.  It  put  the  Bible  into  all  men's 
hands,  and  asserted  for  each  the  right  of  private  judgment 
and  liberty  of  conscience.  Therefore  the  Reformation 
was  the  cause  of  a  great  forward  movement  in  human 
affairs.  It  awakened  the  intellect  of  mankind.  Science, 
literature,  invention,  —  all  were  stimulated  by  it.  It  ran 
well,  but  something  hindered.  Its  reverence  for  the 
Bible  was  its  life ;  but,  unfortunately,  it  soon  fell  into  a 
worship  of  the  letter.  It  taught  a  doctrine  of  verbal 
inspiration.  It  forgot  the  great  saying  of  Paul,  "  not  of 
the  letter,  but  the  spirit;  for  the  letter  killeth."  Very 
soon  that  saying  was  fulfilled.  Reverence  for  the  letter 
of  the  Bible  killed  the  spirit  of  the  Bible.  That  spirit 
is  as  free  as  air.    It  teaches  no  creed,  it  demands  no 


OF   HUMAN  PROGRESS.  47 

fcliiid  acceptance  of  any  dogma.  It  declares  that  wliere 
the  spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty.  But  the  letter- 
theology  has  opposed  nearly  all  the  discoveries  of  science 
and  all  moral  reforms  with  the  words  of  the  Bible.  It 
has  set  Genesis  against  geology,  and  the  book  of  Psalms 
against  the  Copernican  system.  Because  the  Book  of 
Genesis  says  the  heavens  and  earth  were  made  in  six 
days,  the  letter-theology  declared  that  the  fossil  shells 
were  made  in  the  rocks  just  as  they  are,  or  were  dropped 
by  pilgrims  returning  from  the  Holy  Land.  Because  the 
book  of  Psalms  said  that  "  God  hath  established  the  earth 
so  that  it  shall  not  be  moved  for  ever,"  the  letter-theology 
denied  its  daily  and  yearly  revolution.  Because  Noah 
said,  "  Cursed  be  Canaan,"  the  letter-theology  defended 
the  slavery  of  the  negro.  Because  Noah  also  said,  "  He 
who  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be 
shed,"  the  letter-theology  has  defended  capital  punish- 
ment as  a  religious  duty.  Because  the  Jews  were  com- 
manded to  rest  on  the  seventh  day,  the  letter-theology 
forbids  the  Boston  Public  Library  to  be  open  on  the  first. 
Becoming  ever  more  timid  and  more  narrow,  it  clings  to 
the  letter  of  the  common  English  translation,  and  the 
received  text.  It  even  shrinks  from  alterations  which 
would  give  us  the  true  letter  of  the  Bible,  instead  of  the 
false  one. 

Some  years  ago  the  American  Bible  Society  appointed 
a  committee  of  the  most  learned  scholars,  from  all  Ortho- 
dox denominations,  to  correct  the  text  and  the  translation 
of  our  common  EngUsh  Bible,  so  as  to  make  it  conform  to 
the  true  Hebrew  and  Greek  text.  They  were  not  to  make 
a  new  translation,  but  merely  to  correct  palpable,  un- 
doubted errors  in  the  old  one.     They  did  their  work; 


48  A    TRUE    THEOLOGY    THE   BASIS 

printed  their  corrected  Bible;  laid  it  before  the  Bible 
Society,  —  ajid  that  Society  refused  to  adopt  it.  They  had 
not  the  slightest  doubt  of  its  superior  correctness;  but 
they  feared  to  make  any  change,  lest  others  might  be 
called  for,  and  lest  the  faith  of  the  community  might  be 
disturbed  in  the  integrity  of  the  Scriptures.  Jesus  had 
promised  them  the  Holy  Spirit  to  lead  them  into  all 
truth,  to  take  of  his  truth  and  show  it  to  them ;  but  they 
did  not  believe  him.  They  preferred  to  anchor  them- 
selves to  the  words  chosen  by  King  James's  translators 
than  to  be  led  by  the  Spirit  into  any  new  truth.  So  it  is 
that  "  the  letter  killeth."  It  stands  in  the  way  of  prog- 
ress. It  keeps  us  from  trusting  in  that  ever-present  Spirit 
which  is  ready  to  inspire  us  all  to-day,  as  it  inspired 
prophets  and  apostles  of  old.  It  is  an  evidence  not  of 
faith,  but  of  unbelief. 

Thus,  this  false  idea  in  Theology,  that  inspiration  rests 
in  the  letter  of  a  book  or  a  creed  rather  than  in  its  spirit, 
is  seen  to  be  opposed  to  human  progress. 

And  then  there  is  another  Theology  which  is  opposed  to 
human  progress.  It  is  the  Theology  of  Fear.  It  speaks 
of  hell  rather  than  of  heaven ;  it  seeks  to  terrify  rather 
than  to  encourage;  it  drives  men  by  dread  of  danger 
rather  than  leads  them  by  hope.  Its  ruling  idea  is  of 
stern,  implacable  justice ;  its  God  is  a  God  of  vengeance, 
who  cannot  pardon  unless  the  full  penalty  of  sin  has  been 
borne  by  some  victim ;  whose  mercy  ceases  at  death  ;  who 
can  only  forgive  sin  during  our  short  human  life,  not  after 
we  have  passed  into  the  other  world.  To  assuage  his 
anger,  or  appease  his  justice,  there  must  be  devised  some 
scheme  of  salvation,  or  plan  of  redemption.  He  cannot 
forgive  of  pure,  free  grace,  and  out  of  his  boundless  love. 


OF  HUMAN  PROGRESS.  49 

Now  those  who  hold  such  a  Theology  as  this  will  apply 
its  spirit  in  human  affairs.  It  will  go  into  penal  legisla- 
tion, into  the  treatment  of  criminals.  It  will  make  pun- 
ishment the  chief  idea,  not  reformation.  Jesus  taught  a 
boundless  compassion,  an  infinite  tenderness  toward  the 
sinful,  the  weak,  the  forlorn  people  of  the  world.  He 
taught  that  the  strong  are  to  bear  the  burdens  of  the 
weak,  the  righteous  to  help  the  wicked,  and  that  we  are  to 
overcome  evil  with  good.  When  this  principle  is  applied 
in  human  affairs,  the  great  plague  spots  of  society  will 
disappear :  intemperance,  licentiousness,  pauperism,  crime, 
will  be  cured  radically.  Society,  purified  from  these 
poisons,  will  go  forward  to  nobler  achievements  than  have 
ever  yet  been  dreamed  of.  But  this  principle  will  not  be 
applied  while  the  fear-theology  prevails,  and  is  thought 
more  of  than  that  of  love.  The  progress  of  human  society 
depends  on  the  radical  cure  of  these  social  evils,  not  their 
mere  restraint.  And  they  can  only  be  cured  by  such  a 
view  of  the  divine  holiness  and  the  divine  compassion  as 
is  taught  by  Jesus  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  the 
Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son ;  showing  the  root  of  crime  in 
sin,  and  inspiring  a  profound  faith  in  God's  saving  love. 

It  may  seem  to  some  persons  that  I  go  too  far  in  assert- 
ing that  a  true  Theology  is  at  the  basis  of  human  progress. 
They  may  ascribe  human  progress  to  other  causes,  —  to 
the  advance  of  knowledge,  to  scientific  discovery,  to  such 
inventions  as  printing,  the  steam-engine,  the  railroad,  and 
the  like.  But  I  believe  that  spiritual  ideas  are  at  the  root 
of  all  others.  That  which  one  thinks  of  God,  duty,  and 
immortality,  —  in  short,  his  Theology,  —  quickens  or  dead- 
ens his  interest  in  every  thing  else.  Whatever  arousea 
conscience,  faith,  and  love,  also  awakens  intellect,  inven- 


60  A    TRUE    THEOLOGY   THE  BASIS 

tion,  science,  and  art.  If  there  is  nothing  above  this  world 
or  beyond  this  life ;  if  we  came  from  nothing  and  are  going 
nowhere,  what  interest  is  there  in  the  world?  "Let  us 
eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die."  But  if  the  world 
is  full  of  God,  —  if  we  come  from  him  and  are  going  to  him, 
—  then  it  becomes  everywhere  intensely  interesting,  and 
we  wish  to  know  all  about  it.  Science  has  followed  always 
in  the  steps  of  religion,  and  not  the  reverse.  The  Vedas 
went  before  Hindoo  civilization ;  the  Zend-Avesta  led  the 
way  to  that  of  Persia ;  the  oldest  monuments  of  Egypt 
attest  the  presence  of  religious  ideas ;  the  Laws  of  Moses 
preceded  the  reign  of  Solomon ;  and  that  civilization  which 
joined  Greeks,  Romans,  Goths,  Vandals,  Franks,  and 
Saxons  in  a  common  civilization,  derived  its  cohesive 
power  from  the  life  of  Him  whose  idea  was  that  love  to 
man  was  another  form  of  love  to  God.  "  The  very  word 
htimanity^  says  Max  Miiller,  "  dates  from  Christianity." 
No  such  idea,  and  therefore  no  such  term,  was  found 
among  men  before  Christ  came. 

But  it  may  be  said  that  these  instances  are  from  such 
obscure  epochs  that  it  is  uncertain  how  far  it  was  religion 
which  acted  on  civilization.  Let  us,  then,  take  one  or 
two  instances,  concerning  which  there  is  less  uncertainty. 

In  the  deserts,  and  among  the  vast  plains  of  the  Arabian 
Peninsula,  a  race  had  slumbered  inactive  for  twenty  cen- 
turies. Those  nomad-Semitic  tribes  had  wandered  to  and 
fro,  engaged  in  perpetual  internecine  warfare,  fulfilling  the 
prediction  concerning  Ishmael,  "He  will  be  a  wild  man; 
his  hand  will  be  against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand 
against  him."  No  history,  no  civilization,  no  progress, 
no  nationality,  no  unity,  could  be  said  to  exist  during  that 
long  period  among  these  tribes.    At  length  a  man  comes 


OF  HUMAN  PROGRESS.  61 

with  a  religious  idea,  a  living,  powerful  conviction.  He 
utters  it,  whether  man  will  bear  or  forbear.  He  proclaims 
the  unity  and  spirituality  of  God  in  spite  of  all  opposition 
and  persecution.  At  last  his  idea  takes  hold  of  the  soul 
of  this  people*  What  is  the  result  ?  They  flame  up  into 
a  mighty  power;  they  are  united  into  an  irresistible  force ; 
they  sweep  over  the  world  in  a  few  decades  of  years ;  they 
develop  a  civilization  superior  to  any  other  then  extant. 
Suddenly  there  springs  up  in  their  midst  a  new  art,  litera- 
ture, and  science.  Christendom,  emasculated  by  an  eccle- 
siastical and  monastic  Theology,  went  to  Islam  for  freedom 
of  thought,  and  found  its  best  culture  in  the  Moham- 
medan universities  of  Spain.  Bagdad,  Cairo,  Damascus, 
Seville,  Cordova,  became  centres  of  light  to  the  world. 
The  German  conquerors  darkened  the  regions  they  over- 
ran :  the  Mohammedans  enlightened  them.  The  caliphs 
and  viziers  patronized  learning  and  endowed  colleges,  and 
some  of  their  donations  amounted  to  millions  of  dollars. 
Libraries  were  collected.  That  of  a  single  doctor  was  a 
load  for  four  hundred  camels.  That  of  Cairo  contained  a 
hundred  thousand  manuscripts,  which  were  lent  as  freely 
as  those  in  the  Boston  Public  Library.  The  College 
Library  of  Cordova  had  four  hundred  thousand.  In  these 
places  grammar,  logic,  jurisprudence,  the  natural  sciences, 
the  philosophy  of  Aristotle,  were  taught  to  students  who 
flocked  to  them  from  all  parts  of  Christendom.  Many  of 
the  professors  taught  from  memory :  one  man  is  reported 
to  have  been  able  to  repeat  three  thousand  poems.  The 
Saracens  wrote  treatises  on  geography,  numismatics,  medi- 
cine, chemistry,  astronomy,  mathematics.  Some,  like 
Avicenna,  went  through  the  whole  circle  of  the  sciences. 
The   Saracens    invented  pharmacy,   surgery,   chemistry. 


52  A    TRUE    THEOLOGY   THE   BASIS 

Geber,  in  the  eighth  century,  could  prepare  alcohol,  sul- 
phuric acid,  nitric  acid,  corrosive  sublimate,  potash,  and 
soda.  Their  astronomers  measm-ed  a  degree  of  the  earth's 
meridian  near  Bagdad,  and  determined  its  circumference 
as  twenty-four  thousand  miles.  They  found  the  length 
of  the  year,  and  calculated  the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic, 
Roger  Bacon  quotes  their  treatises  on  optics.  Trigo- 
nometry retains  the  form  given  it  by  the  Arabs,  and  they 
greatly  improved  Algebra.  We  received  from  them  our 
numerical  charactei*s.  We  all  know  the  beauty  and  per- 
manence of  their  architecture,  and  much  of  our  musical 
knowledge  is  derived  from  them.  They  also  made  great 
progress  in  scientific  agriculture  and  horticulture,  in  mining 
and  the  working  of  metals,  in  tanning  and  dying  leather. 
Damascus  blades,  morocco,  enamelled  steel,  the  manufac- 
ture and  use  of  paper,  the  use  of  the  pendulum,  the 
manufacture  of  cotton,  public  libraries,  a  national  police, 
rhyme  in  verse,  and  our  arithmetic,  all  came  to  us  from 
the  Arabs. 

All  this  fruitful  intellectual  life  must  be  traced  directly 
back  to  the  theological  impulse  given  by  Mohammed  to 
the  Arab  mind ;  for  it  can  be  derived  from  no  other 
source. 

It  is  not  quite  so  easy  to  define  the  precise  influence  on 
human  progress  given  by  the  doctrines  of  the  Refonnation ; 
for,  before  Luther,  these  were  in  the  air.  But  no  one  can 
reasonably  doubt  that  the  demand  for  freedom  of  con- 
science and  the  right  of  private  judgment  in  religion  has 
led  to  liberty  of  thought,  speech,  action,  in  all  other  direc- 
tions. To  the  war  against  papal  and  ecclesiastical  author- 
ity in  concerns  of  the  soul  we  owe,  how  much  no  one  can 
Bay,  of  civil  freedom,  popular  sovereignty,  the  emancipa- 


OF  HUMAN  PROGReMJ  17  I  V  E  ESS  I  T  Y] 

fcion  of  man,  the  progress  of  the  human  in1^^^J|»'Am^\^ 
of  Luther  were  the  source  of  the  Declaratioi 
pendence.    And  modern  science,  with  the  great  names  of 
Bacon  and  Newton,  Descartes  and  Leibnitz,  Goethe  and 
Humboldt,  is  the  legitimate  child  of  Protestant  Theology. 

It  is  true  that  printing  and  maritime  discoveries  pre- 
ceded Luther.  But  these  inventions  came  from  the  same 
ideas  which  took  form  in  the  Lutheran  Reformation.  The 
discovery  of  printing  was  a  result,  no  less  than  a  cause. 
It  came  because  it  was  wanted ;  because  men  were  wish- 
ing to  communicate  their  thoughts  more  freely  and  widely 
than  could  be  done  by  writing.  If  it  had  been  discovered 
five  hundred  years  before,  it  would  have  fallen  dead,  a 
sterile  invention,  leading  to  nothing.  And  so  the  steam- 
engine  and  the  railroad  did  not  come  before,  because  they 
were  not  wanted:  as  soon  as  they  were  wanted  they 
came.  That  which  lies  at  the  root  of  all  these  inventions 
is  the  wish  of  man  to  communicate  easily  and  rapidly 
and  widely  with  his  brother-man ;  in  other  words,  the 
sense  of  human  brotherhood.  Material  civilization,  in  all 
its  parts  and  in  all  times,  grows  out  of  a  spiritual  root ; 
and  only  faith  leads  to  sight,  only  the  things  unseen  and 
eternal  create  those  which  are  seen  and  temporal. 

The  two  Theologies  at  the  present  time  which  stand 
opposed  to  each  other  here  are  not  Calvinism  and  Arme- 
nianism,  not  Trinitarianism  and  Unitarianism,  not  Natural- 
ism and  Supernaturalism.  But  they  are  the  Theology  of 
discouragement  and  fear  on  one  side,  that  of  courage  and 
hope  on  the  other.  The  one  thinks  men  must  be  driven 
to  God  by  terror :  the  other  seeks  to  attract  them  by  love. 
The  one  has  no  faith  in  man,  believes  him  wholly  evil, 
believes  sin  to  be  the  essential  part  of  him.    The  other 


64  A    TRUE    THEOLOGY   THE   BASIS 

believes  reason  a  divine  light  in  the  soul,  and  encourages 
it  to  act  freely;  trusts  in  his  conscience  enlightened  by 
truth,  and  appeals  to  it  confidently ;  relies  on  his  heart, 
and  seeks  to  inspire  it  with  generous  affections  and  disin- 
terested love.  That  this  Theology  of  faith  is  to  triumph 
over  that  of  fear  who  can  doubt  ?  All  the  best  thought, 
the  deepest  religion,  the  noblest  aspiration  of  the  age, 
flows  in  this  direction.  Whether  our  handful  of  Uni- 
tarian Churches  is  ever  to  become  a  great  multitude  or 
not,  I  do  not  know;  but  I  am  sure  that  the  spirit  which 
inspired  the  soul  of  Channing  is  to  lead  the  future  age, 
and  make  the  churches  which  are  to  be.  It  is  not  now  a 
question  of  Unity  or  Trinity,  but  something  far  deeper 
and  much  more  important.  While  endeavoring  to  settle 
the  logical  terms  of  Christ's  divinity  and  humanity,  we 
have  been  led  up  higher  to  the  sight  of  the  Divine  Father 
and  the  Human  Brotherhood.  Like  Saul,  the  son  of  Kish, 
we  went  out  to  seek  our  father's  asses,  and  have  found  a 
kingdom. 

We  have  recently  been  told  about  a  Boston  Theology. 
If  there  is  any  thing  which  deserves  to  be  called  a  Boston 
Theology  it  is  this  doctrine  of  courage  and  hope.  For  it 
is  shared  by  all  the  leading  minds  of  all  Protestant  de- 
nominations in  this  city.  Whatever  eminent  man  comes 
here,  no  matter  what  he  was  when  he  came,  finds  him- 
self, ere  long,  moving  in  this  direction.  The  shackles  of 
tradition  and  formality  fall  from  his  limbs,  his  eyes  open 
to  a  new  light ;  and  he  also  becomes  the  happy  herald  of 
a  new  and  better  day. 

But  a  better  word  still,  if  one  is  wanted  by  which  to 
localize  these  ideas,  would  be  "  The  New  England  The- 
ology."   For  in  every  part  of  New  England,  from  the 


OF   HUMAN  PROGRESS.  55 

be^nning;  in  every  one  of  the  multiform  sects,  whose 
little  spires  and  baby-house  churches  have  spotted  our 
barren  and  rocky  hills,  there  have  never  failed  men  of  this 
true  Apostolic  succession;  men  believing  in  truth,  and 
brave  to  utter  it ;  believing  that  God  loves  truth  better 
than  falsehood ;  that  he  desires  no  one  to  tell  a  lie  for  his 
glory,  or  to  speak  words  of  wind  in  his  behalf.  With  all 
our  narrowness,  our  bigotry,  our  controversial  bitterness, 
our  persecuting  zeal,  —  of  wliich,  God  knows,  we  have  had 
.enough  in  New  England,  —  the  heart  of  New  England  has 
been  always  free,  manly,  and  rational.  Yes :  all  the  way 
from  Moses  Stuart  to  William  Ellery  Channing,  all  along 
the  road  from  the  lecture-rooms  on  the  hills  of  Andover 
to  the  tribune  of  Theodore  Parker  standing  silent  in  the 
Music  Hall,  we  have  had  this  same  brave  element  of  a 
manly  Theology.  This  has  been  the  handful  of  salt  which 
has  saved  New  England.  Hence  it  is  that  from  the  days 
of  the  early  Puritans,  men  and  women,  of  Harry  Vane, 
Jkft-s.  Hutchinson,  and  Roger  Williams,  who  stood  up  for 
the  rights  of  the  human  soul  against  priestly  tyranny,  down 
through  the  ministers  of  the  Revolution  who  went  with 
their  people  to  the  camp  of  Washington  at  Cambridge; 
down  to  the  days  of  the  Beechers,  —  there  has  never  failed 
a  man  in  the  New  England  pulpit  to  stand  up  for  justice, 
freedom,  and  humanity.  From  our  bare  hill-tops  New 
England  men  and  women  have  looked  up  to  the  sky  and 
seen  it  not  always  nor  wholly  black  with  superstitious 
clouds,  but  its  infinite  depths  of  blue  interpenetrated  ever- 
more with  the  warm  living  light  of  a  God  of  Love.  And 
therefore  has  New  England  been  the  fountain  of  Progress, 
the  fruitful  parent  of  Reforms,  "  the  lovely  mother  of  yet 
more  lovely  children." 


56  A    TRUE   THEOLOGY   THE   BASIS 

I  have  quoted  several  striking  passages  from  the  Apostle 
Paul.  One  expresses  his  longing  for  greater  excellence, 
and  declares  that  he  forgets  every  thing  already  attained, 
and  is  reaching  out  for  better  things,  for  more  truth  and 
more  love.  Another  passage  calls  on  his  disciples  to  think 
for  themselves,  and  be  rational  Christians,  not  children  in 
understanding.  A  third  asserts  that  he  is  the  minister 
of  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  not  its  letter ;  a  fourth  that 
his  religion  is  not  one  of  fear,  but  of  power  and  love  and 
a  sound  mind ;  a  fifth  says,  Stand  fast  in  freedom,  and 
be  liberal  Christians ;  and  in  other  places  he  exhorts  his 
brethren  not  to  be  narrow,  nor  bigoted ;  but  to  look  at 
every  thing  beautiful,  lovely,  true,  and  good,  no  matter 
where  they  find  it.  But  a  little  while  before  he  said  these 
things  Paul  himself  was  one  of  the  most  narrow,  and 
intolerant  of  men,  opposed  to  progress  wholly.  What 
made  this  great  change  in  his  soul  ?  It  was  that  he  had 
found  a  true  Theology.  He  learned  from  Christ  to  trust 
simply  in  the  divine  love  for  pardon  and  salvation.  lie 
learned  that  God  was  the  God  of  Heathen  and  Pagans  as 
well  as  of  Jews.  He  learned  that  no  ritual,  ceremony, 
sacraments  nor  forms,  but  only  the  sight  of  God  as  a 
Father  and  Friend,  can  really  save  the  soul  from  its  dis- 
eases, and  fill  it  with  immortal  life.  A  true  Theology  was 
the  secret  of  Paul's  immense  progress,  and  of  his  wonder- 
ful power  to  awaken  and  convert  others.  There  are  many 
who  suppose  his  Theology  obscure  and  severe.  But  when 
we  penetrate  the  veil  of  Jewish  language,  we  find  it  one 
of  Freedom,  of  Reason,  of  Love,  manly  and  tender,  gener- 
ous and  intelligent.  And  this  same  Theology  passing  in 
its  essence  from  Paul  to  Augustine,  to  Luther,  to  Wesley, 
has  always  been  the  motive  power  of  human  civilization 


OF  HUMAN  PROGRESS.  67 

and  human  development.  It  has  been  the  friend  of  free 
thought,  liberty  of  conscience,  and  universal  progress. 

I  mean  then  by  a  true  Theology  what  Paul  meant  when 
he  said  that  God  "has  not  given  to  us  a  spirit  of  fear, 
but  of  power,  and  of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind."  I 
mean  what  he  said  when  he  declared  that  God  had  made 
him  a  minister  of  the  New  Testament,  not  of  the  letter 
but  of  the  spirit;  for  the  letter  killeth,  but  the  spirit 
giveth  life. 

I  mean  the  Theology  which  places  the  substance  above 
the  form  ;  the  thing  before  the  name ;  which  looks  at  the 
fact,  not  at  the  label. 

Let  us  then,  brethren,  who  call  ourselves  Unitarians,  be 
glad  and  grateful  for  the  gosj)el  of  faith  and  hope  which 
we  enjoy.  And  let  us  give  to  others  what  we  have  our- 
selves received.  If  it  be  true,  as  we  have  tried  to  show, 
that  human  progress  depends  largely  on  a  true  Theology 
we  cannot  help  mankind  more  than  by  diffusing  widely 
that  which  God  has  given  us  of  his  truth.  Freely  you 
have  received,  fVeely  give.  You  who  have  always  lived 
in  this  community,  surrounded  by  this  mellow  warm  light 
of  peace  and  freedom,  do  not  know,  cannot  tell,  what 
those  suffer  who  have  been  taught  from  early  childhood  to 
fear  God,  and  to  distrust  his  light  in  their  soul.  Do  your 
part  in  spreading  abroad  the  beams  of  a  better  day.  Give 
to  the  world  that  religion  which  is  not  a  spirit  of  fear, 
but  of  power,  and  of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind. 


THE    RISE    AND    DECLINE 


ROMISH    CHURCH. 


Bt  ATHANASE    COQUEREL,   Fil§. 


THE    KISE    AND    DECLINE 


ROMISH    CHURCH, 


"XT  7E  live  in  a  time  of  great  and  manifold  changes 
*  '  There  is  one  church  that  for  centuries  has  had  her 
principal  glory  in  asserting  that  she  never  has  changed,  — 
that  she  has  at  all  times  been  exactly  the  same ;  but  now 
she  can  hardly  deny  that  either  in  accordance  with  her 
own  will,  or  by  the  force  of  circumstances,  very  great 
changes  have  been  wrought  in  her  during  the  last  few 
years.  This,  if  it  is  true,  must  change  also  the  nature,  the 
system,  the  course  of  our  controversy  with  her.  The  con- 
troversy between  the  two  churches  has  not  always,  per- 
haps, been  quite  fair ;  and  I  should  not  like  to  be  unfair  to 
any  adversary,  whoever  he  may  be.  I  should  not  be  at 
ease  in  my  conscience  if  I  thought  I  had  been  unfair  to 
any  thmg,  especially  to  any  thing  religious,  of  whatever 
kind  that  religion  may  be ;  because  in  any  religion,  even 
the  most  imperfect,  there  is  some  aspiration  from  this  earth 
to  the  sky;  at  least,  fi-om  human  souls  to  what  they  hope 
or  believe  to  be  God.  And  especially  I  could  not  pardon 
myself  for  being  in  any  way  unjust  to  that  great  church 
which  has  for  centuries  comforted  and  sustained  a  multi- 
tude of  souls,  and  made  them  better  and  happier  by  her 
teachings.    It  is  a  Christian  church ;  and  though  I  think 


62  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

that  Romish  Christianity  has  been  in  a  very  great  degree 
alloyed,  and  mixed  with  grave  errors,  —  and  that  is  exactly 
what  I  wish  to  show,  —  yet,  even  under  that  veil  of  human 
errors,  I  recognize,  I  acknowledge,  religion,  Christianity; 
and  therefore  I  bow  before  it. 

I  think,  however,  the  changes  that  have  taken  place 
have  not  altered  the  essential  character  of  the  Roman 
Church.  I  think  the  changes  that  have  happened  are  in 
conformity  with  the  nature  of  that  church ;  really  were  to 
be  expected,  and  have  notliing  absolutely  new  in  them. 
We  might,  perhaps,  for  a  long  time  have  seen  them  coming; 
and,  if  we  had  had  foresight  enough,  we  might  have  seen 
them  from  the  very  first  times  of  that  church.  Let  us  try 
to  imderstand  exactly  what  she  is,  what  she  means ;  let  us 
try  to  see  what  there  is  under  that  name,  "  Roman  Catholic 
Church."  She  calls  herself  catholic^  which  means  universal, 
and  at  the  same  time  she  has  a  local  name.  She  is  for  the 
whole  world;  but  at  the  same  time  she  belongs  to  one 
city,  and  she  bears  the  name  of  that  city.  Why  ?  This 
is  the  question ;  and  though  it  seems  only  a  question  of 
name,  I  think  we  shall  find  by  other  ways  that  it  is  a  ques- 
tion of  facts.  A  second  advance  requires  a  change  in  our 
polemics  with  Roman  authority.  A  new  science  has  been 
created  in  our  time,  which  gives  us  better  means  of  judging 
and  studying  other  churches  than  our  own ;  that  science 
is  called  the  comparative  history  of  religions.  In  England 
Max  Miiller,  in  France  Burnouf,  and  in  this  country  James 
Freeman  Clarke,  have  compared  the  history  of  several 
religions.  According  to  that  comparative  history,  there 
are  rules  to  be  understood,  to  be  acknowledged,  in  the 
development  of  religion.  One  of  the  rules  which  I  think 
we  can  deduce  from  any  comparative  history  of  religion 


OF   THE   ROMISH   CHURCH,  63 

may  be  a  startling  one ;  and  I  will  use  a  very  homely  com- 
parison, to  make  myself  perfectly  understood.  Have  you 
ever  seen  over  a  shop  door  a  sign-board,  where  the  name 
of  the  old  shop-keeper  was  painted ;  and,  when  his  suc- 
cessor came  in,  he  had  the  same  board  covered  with  a  new 
color,  and  his  own  name  painted  over  the  old  one  ?  But 
in  time  the  new  paint  wore  offj  so  that  the  old  name 
reappeared  under  the  new,  in  such  a  way  that  it  became 
perhaps  difficult  to  distinguish  clearly  which  letters  or 
lines  belonged  to  the  old,  and  which  to  the  new.  If  this 
image  appears  somewhat  too  familiar,  let  me  ask  you  if 
you  remember  what  scholars  call  a  palimpsest.  Some- 
times in  the  Middle  Ages  it  was  difficult  to  find  well-pre- 
pared parchment  on  which  to  write,  and  there  were  a 
great  many  monks  who  had  nothing  else  to  do  —  and  it 
was  the  best  use  they  could  make  of  their  time  —  but  write 
or  copy  the  Bible  or  other  religious  books.  When  they 
found  parchments  where  were  copied  the  comedies  and 
tragedies  or  other  works  of  the  heathen,  they  thought 
those  were  of  very  little  use,  and  they  could  very  easily 
have  the  writing  on  those  parchments  washed  out,  or 
covered  over  with  white  paint,  in  such  a  way  that  what 
had  been  written  there  was  no  more  visible.  Then  on 
those  parchments  they  would  write  the  Bible,  or  semaons, 
or  any  document  they  thought  useful.  But  the  same  thing 
happened  then  that  happened  with  the  sign-board,  —  the 
old  writing  reappeared  after  a  time ;  the  white  covering 
spread  over  the  page  disappeared.  And  thus  it  happens 
that  scholars  are  sometimes  pondering  for  a  long  time 
over  a  page  from  a  sermon  of  Saint  Augustine,  or  John 
Chrysostom,  in  which  they  find  a  verse  from  some  comedy 
of  Terence  or  Aristophanes ;  then  they  have  perhaps  some 


64  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

trouble  in  making  out  which  is  comedy  and  which  is  ser- 
mon, in  distinguishing  exactly  what  of  the  writing  is  old 
and  what  is  new ;  and  they  have  not  always  perfectly  suc- 
ceeded in  that  eifort. 

Now  what  we  see  in  the  sign-board  we  see  also  in  the 
religion  of  the  different  churches,  when  a  whole  multi- 
tude, at  one  time,  pass  from  one  worship  to  another.  Then, 
against  their  will,  and  perhaps  without  their  knowing  it, 
they  never  come  into  the  pale  of  their  new  church  empty- 
handed:  they  carry  with  them  a  number  of  ideas,  and 
habits,  and  turns  of  thought,  which  they  had  found  in 
their  old  worship.  And  thus,  after  a  time,  when  the  fervor 
of  the  early  days  is  over,  you  find  in  the  new  religion,  or 
new  worship,  a  real  palimpsest :  the  old  one  is  reappearing 
under  the  new.  That  makes  itself  manifest  in  a  good 
many  ways;  sometimes  in  ways  the  most  strange  and 
unexpected. 

If  you  ask  me,  now,  remembering  this  rule,  what  means 
the  name,  "Roman  Catholic  Church,"  I  answer:  Chris- 
tianity absorbed  into  itself  the  Roman  empire ;  the  Roman 
empire  became  Christian  in  a  very  few  years,  with  a  most 
rapid,  with  a  most  admirable  sway;  souls  became  con- 
quered in  large  numbers;  they  became  Christian.  But 
afterwards  it  appeared  that  they  were  not  so  perfectly 
unheathenized  as  they  were  thought  to  be,  or  as  they 
thought  themselves:  many  of  their  heathenish  habits  of 
life,  thoughts,  and  customs  remained  even  in  their  very 
worship.  Thus,  after  Christianity  had  absorbed  the  Roman 
world,  it  appeared  that  the  Roman  world  had  penetrated 
and  impregnated  the  whole  of  Christianity;  and  this  is 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  She  is  Christian,  but  she 
is  full  of  the  errors  and  superstitions  that  belonged  to  the 
old  Roman  heathenish  world. 


OF    THE   ROMISH    CHURCH.  65 

To  understanfl  what  this  means  we  must  now  try  to 
comi3rehend  what  the  old  Roman  genius  was.  Here  I 
ask  you  not  to  confound  it  with  the  Greek  genius,  which 
was  in  many  respects  highly  superior,  but  which  had,  at 
that  time,  passed  away  in  a  large  measure,  and  been 
replaced  everywhere  by  the  Roman  genius.  What  were 
the  especial  traits  of  character  of  the  Romans  ?  The  first, 
and  a  very  striking  one  to  those  who  have  travelled  and 
studied  in  those  countries,  is  a  most  vivacious  love  for 
tradition.  In  Rome,  at  the  present-day,  you  find  things 
that  are  done,  that  are  said,  that  are  believed,  that  are 
liked,  because  they  were  two  thousand  years  ago,  without 
the  people  themselves  having  a  very  clear  notion  of  it. 
Tlieir  custom  —  and  it  is  born  in  their  flesh,  and  in  their 
blood  —  is  to  look  backwards,  and  to  see  in  the  past  the 
motives  and  the  precedents  for  their  acts  and  for  their 
belief.  Of  this  I  could  quote  to  you  a  number  of  instances. 
;  will  choose  but  one.  The  first  time  I  was  in  Rome  I 
stopped,  as  every  traveller  does,  on  the  Piazza  del  Popolo. 
In  the  midst  of  that  square  is  an  obelisk,  and  on  one  side 
of  the  pedestal  of  that  obelisk  is  written :  "  This  monu- 
ment was  brought  to  Rome  by  the  High  Pontiff,  Ca3sar 
Augustus."  I  went  round  the  monument,  and  on  the 
other  face  of  the  same  pedestal  I  read  :  "  This  monument, 
brought  to  Rome  by  the  High  Pontifi*,  CaBsar  Augustus, 
was  placed  in  this  square  by  the  High  PontiflT,  Sextus 
V."  And  then  I  remembered  that  one  of  those  High- 
Pontiffs  was  a  Roman  heathen,  an  Emperor ;  and  that  the 
other  was  a  Christian,  was  a  priest,  was  a  pope ;  and  I  was 
astonished,  at  first  sight,  to  find  on  two  faces  of  the  same 
stone  the  same  title  given  to  those  two  representatives  of 
very  different  religions.    Afterwards,  I  observed  that  this 


06  TRE  RISE   AND   DECLINE 

was  no  extraordinary  case,  but  that  in  many  other  places 
in  Rome  instances  of  the  same  kind  were  to  be  found.  I 
inquired  a  little  more  deeply,  perhaps,  than  some  other 
travellers,  into  the  meaning  of  those  words.  I  asked  myself 
why  this  pope,  Sextus  V.,  and  this  Emperor  Augustus, 
should  each  be  called  "  pontiff."  What  is  the  meaning  of 
"  j)ontiff "  ?  "  Pontiff"  means  bridge-maker,  bridge-builder. 
Why  are  they  called  in  that  way  ?  Here  is  the  explana- 
tion of  that  fact.  In  the  very  lii-st  years  of  the  existence 
of  Rome,  at  a  time  of  which  we  have  a  very  fabulous  his- 
tory, and  but  few  existing  monuments,  —  the  little  town 
of  Rome,  not  built  on  sevei;  hills  as  is  generally  supposed ; 
there  are  eleven  of  them  now ;  then  there  were  within  the 
town  less  than  seven  even,  —  that  little  town  had  a  great 
deal  to  fear  from  any  enemy  which  should  take  one  of  the 
hills  that  were  out  of  town,  the  Janiculum,  because  the 
Janiculum  is  higher  than  the  othera,  and  from  that  hill  an 
enemy  could  very  easily  throw  stones,  fire,  or  any  means  of 
destruction,  into  the  town.  The  Janiculum  was  separated 
from  the  town  by  the  Tiber.  Then  the  first  necessity  for 
the  defence  of  that  little  town  of  Rome  was  to  have  j^ 
bridge.  They  had  built  a  wooden  bridge  over  the  Tiber, 
and  a  great  point  of  interest  to  the  town  was  that  this 
bridge  should  be  kept  always  in  good  order,  so  that  at  any 
moment  troops  could  pass  over  it.  Then,  with  the  special 
genius  of  the  Romans,  of  which  we  have  other  instances, 
Xhey  ordained,  curiously  enough,  that  the  men  who  were  a 
corporation  to  take  care  of  that  bridge  should  be  sacred  ; 
that  their  function,  necessary  to  the  defence  of  the  town^ 
should  be  considered  holy ;  that  they  should  be  priests, 
and  the  highest  of  them  was  called  "the  high  bridge- 
maker."     So  it  happened  that  there  was  in  Rome  a  cor- 


OF   THE   ROMISH   CHURCH.  6T 

poration  of  bridge-makers,  pontifices,  of  whom  the  head 
was  the  most  sacred  of  all  Romans,  because  in  1  hose  days 
his  life,  and  the  life  of  his  companions,  was  deemed 
necessary  to  the  safety  of  the  town.  Things  changed ; 
very  soon  Rome  was  large  enough  not  to  care  about  the 
Janiculum;  very  soon  Rome  conquered  a  part  of  Italy, 
then  the  whole  of  Italy,  and  finally  almost  the  whole  of 
the  world.  But  when  once  something  is  done  in  Rome, 
it  remains  done;  when  once  a  thing  is  said,  it  remains 
said,  and  is  repeated ;  and  thus  it  happened  that  the  priv- 
ilege of  the  bridge-makers'  corporation,  as  beings  sacred 
and  holy,  remained ;  and  that  privilege  made  everybody 
respect  them ;  gave  them  a  soil  of  moral  power.  Then 
kings  wanted  to  be  made  High  Bridge-makers;  after 
kings,  consuls ;  later,  dictators ;  and,  later,  emperors  them- 
selves made  themselves  High  Bridge-makers,  which  meant 
the  most  sacred  persons  in  the  town. 

"When  Constantine,  who  is  generally  called  the  first 
Christian  emperor,  —  but  who  was  very  far  fi-om  being 
a  real  Christian, — when  Constantine  became  nominally 
a  Christian,  he  did  not  leave  ofi"  being  the  high  bridge- 
maker  of  the  heathen.  He  remained  high  priest  of  the 
heathen  at  the  same  time  he  was  a  Christian  emperor; 
and  he  found  means,  as  weU  as  his  son  after  him,  to  keep 
the  two  functions.  He  acted  on  some  occasions  as  high 
pontiff"  of  the  heathen;  on  other  occasions,  he  called 
councils,  presided  over  them,  and  sent  them  away  when 
he  had  had  enough  of  their  presence;  declared  to  the 
bishops  that  he  was  in  some  sense  one  of  them,  and 
acted  to  all  intents  and  purposes  as  popes  have  acted 
after  him.  Thus  that  title  remained  the  type  of  whatever 
was  most  sacred  in  Rome ;  and  the  bishop  of  Rome,  when 


68  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

an  opportunity  came,  —  when  the  title  had  been  lost  in 
Rome  by  emperors,  —  took  it  up  again.  And  thus  we  see 
on  the  same  stone,  at  the  present  time  in  Rome,  the  name 
of  a  high  bridge-maker  who  is  a  heathen  emperor,  and  the 
name  of  a  high  bridge-maker  who  is  a  pope,  who  is  the 
head  of  the  Christian  Catholic  Church.  Thus  you  see  an 
old  superstition,  an  old  local  superstition,  established  with 
a  political  meaning,  has  survived  itself,  has  survived  cen- 
turies, has  survived  the  downfall  of  heathenism,  and  is 
at  the  present  time  flourishing.  You  all  know  that  the 
present  pope  is  called  Pontifex  Maximus ;  it  is  his  title ; 
and  everywhere  you  see,  even  on  the  pieces  of  money, 
that  Pio  Nono  is  JPontifex  Maximus^  —  the  great  bridge- 
maker,  which  means  the  highest  of  all  priests,  of  all  sacred 
beings.  Thus  has  tradition,  on  that  special  spot,  and  in 
connection  with  the  history  and  with  the  antiquities  of 
that  spot,  established  an  authority  unequalled  anywhere 
else. 

Though  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  is  special  to  that 
place,  and  inherits  the  local  habits  and  traditions,  it 
pretends  also  to  universality.  This  is,  again,  perfectly 
Roman.  The  heathen  Romans  had  thought  for  centu- 
ries that  the  world  was  made  to  be  conquered  by  them ; 
that  unity  was  represented  by  Rome ;  that  Rome  was  all 
in  all ;  and  at  the  present  time  the  Pope,  on  Thursday  of 
every  Easter  week,  gives  his  solemn  blessing,  as  you  know, 
to  the  town  first,  and  the  world  afterwards,  —  urhi  et  orbi. 
All  countries,  both  hemispheres,  all  nations,  all  languages, 
are  lost  in  that  great  unity.  One  town  and  one  world,  of 
which  that  town  is  the  capital,  —  that  was  the  wish,  the 
hope  of  the  heathenish  Romans  for  centuries ;  and  that 
has  been  the  aim,  the  assumption  of  papal  Rome  for  cen- 


OF   THE   ROMISH    CHURCH.  69 

turies  also.  When  the  present  Pope  said,  on  a  celebrated 
day,  after  enumerating  the  great  acts  of  his  pontificate, 
that  he  had  created  more  bishoprics  than  any  other  pope, 
he  was  right.  He  has  created,  on  his  own  authority, 
bishoprics  in  Holland,  in  England,  and  in  other  countries ; 
cut  out  bishoprics  on  the  map  of  those  countries.  And  he 
did  that  because,  as  pope,  he  is  the  spiritual  sovereign 
of  the  world ;  because  England  and  Holland  belong  to 
him ;  because  Rome  is  the  capital  of  the  world ;  and  he 
cuts  off  a  part  of  any  country,  in  America  as  well  as  in 
Europe,  in  order  to  make  of  it  the  see  or  dominion  of  a 
bishop.  The  old  Roman  idea  was  that  nobody  knew 
how  to  govern  except  Romans.  They  assumed  —  and 
often,  if  an  unscrupulous  government  was  the  best  of 
all,  if  a  tyrannical  government  was  the  best  of  all,  they 
were  right  —  to  govern  better,  more  wisely,  and  with 
more  acute  politics,  than  any  other  nation.  They  said, 
"  Other  sciences,  other  arts,  may  be  the  share  of  other  na^ 
tions ;  but  our  share  in  the  great  things  of  this  world  is 
government^  I  hardly  dare  to  speak  Latin  in  an  English 
country,  because  I  cannot  pronounce  Latin  as  you  do;' 
but  though  I  pronounce  it  as  a  Frenchman,  which  is,  per- 
haps, a  shade  less  bad  than  to  pronounce  it  as  you  do  in 
England  and  America,  you  may  guess  what  I  mean  when 
I  recall  to  the  memory  of  some  of  you  the  famous  lines 
of  Virgil,  where  he  says  what  must  be,  in  this  world,  the 
function  of  the  Romans :  — 

"  Tu  regere  imperio  populos,  Romane,  memento ; 
Hae  tibi  erunt  artes." 

That  is  to  say,  "  You  Romans !  remember  that  you  are 
made  to  govern  the  nations ;  that  must  be  your  office ;  all 
the  arts  come  after  this ;  this  is  the  special  Roman  art."   I 


70  THE  RISE  AND  DECLINE 

declare  to  you  that  at  this  present  moment  the  clergy,  the 
cardinals,  the  bishops,  the  prelates,  the  court  of  Rome,  think, 
and  have  never  ceased  to  think,  that  they  are  the  people 
to  govern  better  than  any  other  political  body ;  and  that 
the  government  of  the  world  has  been  providentially 
reserved  to  that  town ;  first,  in  a  temporal  way,  for  the 
heathen ;  and,  secondly,  in  a  spiritual  way,  for  the  Cliris- 
tians,  for  the  Catholic  countries  of  the  world.  And  as  they 
believe  spiritual  things  are  a  great  deal  more  important 
than  temporal  things,  they  think  their  government  is  a 
great  deal  more  important,  and  greatly  superior  to  any 
government  of  any  kind. 

Let  us  now  turn  back  a  little  again,  and  try  more  fully 
to  understand  what  the  old  Roman  genius  was  in  its  way 
of  government.  They  governed  by  laws.  You  all  have 
heard  about  Roman  law,  about  Roman  jurisprudence.  It 
has  been  said  for  centuries  that  they  were  men  who,  better 
than  any  other,  undei-stood  the  ait  of  making  laws, —  very 
precise,  full  of  foresight,  forgetting  nothing,  or  few  things, 
and  giving  in  the  most  exact  terms  the  decisions  to  be 
enforced  in  all  possible  cases,  at  least  in  all  the  cases  with 
which  they  had  occasion  to  deal.  It  is  said  also,  it  has 
always  been  said,  that  their  laws  were  hard  ;  but  they  ac- 
cepted them,  though  hard :  "  dura  lex^  sed  lexP  And  cer- 
tainly there  was  something  noble  and  good  in  this  respect 
for  law,  whatever  the  law  was:  there  was  something  just, 
really  in  the  interest  of  nations,  in  this  love  of  law.  But 
at  that  time  this  love  of  law  was  accompanied  by  the  fact 
that  the  law  was  exceedingly  hard  in  a  great  number 
of  cases.  Yet  that  hardness  was  in  conformity  with  the 
general  temperament  of  the  nation  at  that  time:  the 
Romans  were  hard. 


Oh'    THE    IWMliSH    CHURCH.  Yl 

1  have  no  time  to  stop  to  show  you  how  different  they 
were  from  the  Greeks ;  but  you  remember  that  when  the 
Greeks  assembled  in  one  of  their  great  annual  festivals, 
they  heard  music,  they  listened  to  poetry,  they  listened  to 
the  works  of  the  historian ;  or  they  saw  men  run  raceSj 
or  engage  in  one  of  those  contests  that  were  not  cruel, 
that  were  only  displays  of  strength,  agility,  or  training. 
That  was  the  pleasure  of  the  Greeks  in  their  annual  fes* 
tival.  What  did  the  Romans  do  ?  You  all  know.  They 
had  immense  amphitheatres  where  they  assembled  to  see 
men  kill  one  another.  Their  pleasure  Was  to  see  people 
die,  to  see  people  suffer,  to  see  people  maimed,  and  welter- 
ing in  their  blood:  that  was  their  favorite  amusement. 
And  ambitious  men  in  that  day  secured  votes  by  bringing 
lions,  hyenas,  and  tigers,  in  large  numbei-S,  to  Rome,  and 
by  giving  the  people  the  diversion  of  seeing  those  animals 
killing  men,  devouring  living  men,  women,  and  children, 
living  Christians,  often.  That  was  the  punishment  in 
fashion  at  that  time :  Christian  men,  women,  and  children 
were  killed,  were  devoured,  were  mangled  before  the  eyes 
of  the  people,  and  for  their  pleasure.  In  their  hardness 
they  had  a  taste  for  the  foi-mal,  precise  execution  of  their 
law,  whatever  it  might  be.  Christianity  came  and  swept 
away  their  abominable  pleasures,  —  this  cruelty,  which 
was  contrary  to  every  human  feeling ;  but  the  habit  of  a 
sort  of  hardness,  in  the  infliction  of  the  penalties  of  law, 
remained  in  Rome  more  than  it  did  in  any  other  place* 
And  this  was  allied  to  another  feeling  of  a  different  nature^ 
but  which  very  well  connected  itself  with  it.  I  mean  the 
Roman  love  for  the  literal  in  every  thing.  They  did  not 
like  to  understand  any  thing  as  metaphorical,  as  poetry : 
they  liked  to  take  every  thing  literally;  and  it  was  in 


72  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

consequence  of  this  characteristic  of  the  Roman  mind  tliat 
they  were  able  to  enforce  their  law.  Even  if  the  result 
of  what  the  law  demanded  was  absurd,  they  maintained, 
for  the  honor  of  the  law,  that  it  must  be  literally  under- 
stood, and  literally  executed ;  and  they  permitted  none  of 
those  different  ways  of  alleviating  the  hardships  of  the 
law  that  have  been  in  other  places  not  only  allowed,  but 
ordered,  by  those  in  command.  This  is  of  extreme  im- 
portance. Perhaps  at  fii-st  sight  it  does  not  strike  you 
so,  but  it  is.  Remember  from  what  country  Christianity 
came.  Christianity  came  from  the  East,  came  from  Asia, 
came  from  the  Jews.  The  Apostles,  the  first  propagators 
of  Christianity,  were  Oriental  men,  were  Jews.  I  have 
seen  part  of  the  Levant,  I  have  seen  those  very  countries, 
and  I  can  speak  of  it  as  a  fact  known  for  centuries,  that 
the  people  of  the  Orient  never  speak  otherwise  than  by 
images.  They  do  not  like  the  shortest  way  from  one 
point  to  another;  they  make  the  way  long.  They  use 
flowers,  and  rays  of  light,  and  moonshine,  or  any  thing 
else  that  gives  an  image  and  color  to  their  speech.  They 
bring  these  things  in  continually,  whatever  may  be  the 
«ubject  they  speak  of. 

Perhaps  I  may  give  here  an  illustration  that  will  make 
you  understand  me.  I  was  in  a  house  made  of  branches 
of  trees,  where  lived  a  sheik.  He  told  me  that  every  thing 
in  that  house,  his  own  person,  his  own  family,  were  mine ; 
and  he  said  this  with  the  greatest  protestations.  This  is 
exactly  the  same  as  if  you  should  say  to  a  foreigner,  com- 
ing into  your  house,  "  You  are  welcome."  Nothing  more. 
If,  on  going  away,  I  had  taken  any  thing  from  that  house, 
the  man  would  immediately  have  shot  me;  though  he 
had  given  me  every  thing,  even  to  his  own  person  and 


OF   THE   ROMISH   CHURCH.  73 

his  own  family;  because  he  would  have  had  this  idea 
"  Tliis  man  is  a  thief;  I  have  a  thief  in  my  house."  If  I 
had  said,  "  But  you  gave  me  every  thing  in  the  house,"  lie 
would  have  answered  me,  "You  come  from  a  country 
where  people  have  no  politeness.  I  gave  you  these 
things  •  that  means  welcome,  and  nothing  more."  Thus  a 
man  o\  the  Orient  never  says  any  thing  in  the  simple  short 
way  that  Western  nations  do:  they  always  want  some 
poetry,  some  rhetoric,  some  image  about  it.  And  you 
must  remember  that  many  of  the  most  admirable  teach- 
ings of  the  Bible  are  in  images,  are  in  poetry,  and  are 
extremely  beautiful  and  eloquent  by  their  poetry.  We 
are  accustomed  to  this,  so  that  we  know  that  it  is  poetry ; 
and  we  understand  it.  But  the  Romans,  accustomed  to 
their  principle,  that  the  law  may  be  hard,  but  that  law 
is  law,  and  must  be  understood  literally,  and  executed 
literally,  understood  every  thing  literally,  and  in  that 
way  they  spoiled  many  of  the  great  Christian  truths.  I 
will  not  here  quote  many  instances,  though  it  would  be 
exceedingly  easy  to  biing  them  in  large  numbers  before 
you.  I  will  take  the  most  striking  and  best  known  of 
all.  When  our  Lord,  a  few  hours  before  being  sepa- 
rated fi-om  his  disciples,  to  die  on  the  cross,  gave  them 
of  the  bread  that  was  on  the  table,  and  said,  "Eat,  this 
is  my  body,"  it  was  absolutely  impossible  for  Eastern 
people  to  misunderstand  him ;  it  was  impossible  for  them 
not  to  understand  that  he  meant,  "  This  represents  my 
body."  The  idea  that  what  he  held  in  the  hands  of  his 
own  body  was  his  own  body  again ;  that  he  gave  them 
his  own  body  to  eat,  and  that  he  ate  some  of  it  himself 
with  them,  —  that  idea  could  not  for  a  moment  have 
entered  the  head  of  one  of  those  who  were  there.    And 

4 


74  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

if  a  multitude  had  been  there,  instead  of  the  twelve 
Apostles,  it  would  have  been  exactly  the  same.  Nobody- 
would  have  understood,  when  the  Lord  said,  "  I  am  the 
way,"  or  when  he  said,  "  I  am  the  door,"  that  he  was 
really,  in  fact,  a  path  or  a  gate ;  everybody  knew  that  he 
meant,  "  I  am  the  leader ;  you  must  come  with  me ;  I 
show  you  the  way."  Everybody  in  the  Orient  understood 
that.  But  here  comes  the  Roman  genius,  taking  every 
thing  literally ;  and  they  repeat,  "  He  said,  *  This  is  my 
body,'  and  this  is  his  body."  They  repeat :  "  You  Protes- 
tants do  not  accept  the  truth  coming  from  the  lips  of 
your  Master.  He  says,  *  This  is  my  body,'  but  you  Prot- 
estants say,  *No,  it  is  not  his  body,  it  represents  his 
body.'"  Thus  it  seems  we  are  convicted  of  crime;  it 
seems  we  will  not  accept  the  teachings  of  our  Lord ;  yet 
we  are  perfectly  tioie  to  his  own  meaning,  to  his  real 
meaning,  that  could  not  be  misunderstood  in  the  East,  but 
that  was  misunderstood  when  it  was  carried  to  Rome,  a 
countiy  where  people  gloried  in  taking  every  thing  in  a 
literal  sense.  So  they  did  with  many  other  most  beauti- 
ful and  delicate  things  in  the  Bible.  The  Roman  genius 
—  I  cannot  help  saying  it  —  had  something  clumsy  in  it. 
They  were  like  giants,  having  very  strong  arms,  and 
enormous  hands,  to  take  every  thing,  and  to  dominate 
over  every  thing.  But  any  thing  very  delicate,  very 
pootic,  like  flowers  from  the  East,  they  could  not  touch 
without  the  flowers  being  broken  and  faded,  losing  their 
charm  and  their  color.  That  was  their  Avay  of  treating 
many  of  the  most  beautiful  things  of  the  Bible,  w^hich 
they  did  not  understand;  which  they  made  absurd  or 
repulsive,  by  taking  in  a  literal  sense  what  was  said,  and 
ought  to  be  taken,  in  a  spiritual  sense.     They  acted  exactly 


OF    THE   ROMISH    CHURCH.  75 

as  we  should,  if  we  received  an  Oriental  letter  and  under- 
stood as  literal  every  thing  contained  in  it. 

I  will  give  another  instance  to  make  this  clear.  I 
remember  having  seen  two  letters,  written  one  by  a 
French  General,  and  another  by  Abd-el-Kader,  the  chief 
of  the  enemies  of  the  French  in  Algeria.  These  lette-s 
were  intended  to  convey  identically  the  same  thing;  that 
is  to  say,  that  some  prisoners  on  one  side  were  to  be  ex- 
changed for  the  same  number  of  prisoners  on  the  other 
side.  It  had  been  decided  that  the  French  General  and 
the  Arab  chief  should  say  the  same  thing.  I  have  seen 
both.  The  French  General  writes  two  lines ;  very  clear, 
distinct,  and  polite,  with  nothing  but  the  exact  meaning 
he  wanted  to  convey.  But  Abd-el-Kader,  meaning  to  write 
the  same  thing,  writes  a  whole  page,  about  flowers,  and 
jewels,  and  roses,  and  moonshine,  and  every  thing  of  the 
kind.  His  intention  was  to  say  exactly  the  same  thing, 
to  convey  identically  the  same  meaning ;  but  these  things, 
translated  from  one  language  to  another,  pass,  as  a  cele- 
brated German  scholar  says,  "from  the  Shemitic  to  the 
Japhetic ;  from  the  poetic  language  of  the  sons  of  Shem, 
to  the  precise  language  of  the  sons  of  Japhet."  This  has 
been  the  fault  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  many 
dogmas,  in  many  points  of  very  high  importance :  the  sons 
of  Japhet  could  not  understand  what  the  sons  of  Shem 
meant.  They  thought  they  understood  it,  when  they 
were  entirely  in  error,  and  gave  to  it  a  meaning  altogether 
different  from  what  was  intended. 

I  must  add,  that  what  helped  them  along  in  this  belief 
of  things,  taken  in  a  literal  sense,  was  Roman  superstition. 
In  that  town,  and  in  Italy,  have  always  prevailed  the 
Btrangest  superstitions.     The   most   celebrated   Romans, 


76  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

men  whose  wisdom  and  whose  glory  have  filled  the  world, 
if  they  met,  when  they  went  out  of  their  house  in  the 
morning,  a  hare  in  the  way,  re-entered  their  house  on  the 
instant,  and  renounced  any  thing  they  had  to  do,  because 
meeting  a  hare  was  ominous  of  misfortune,  and  any  thing 
they  should  undertake  that  day  would  result  in  their  con- 
fusion or  misfortune.  When  they  put  their  foot  in  the 
wrong  way,  the  left  before  the  right,  or  the  right  before 
t.ie  left,  on  the  stone  at  the  entrance  of  a  house,  they 
stopped  there  and  returned  to  their  house,  because  every 
thing  they  should  do  in  that  house  would  prove  unfortu- 
nate, since  they  had  made  a  mistake  in  putting  the  wrong 
foot  foremost  when  they  entered  the  house. 

So  there  were  a  multitude  of  superstitions.  You  know 
when  they  were  to  decide  the  gi-eatest  questions  of  peace 
or  war,  they  consulted  their  sacred  chickens.  They  gave 
them  grains  of  wheat,  and  if  the  chickens  ate  it,  or  if  they 
refused  to  eat  it,  or  if  they  ate  it  too  fast,  or  if  the  chickens 
let  fall  a  gi'ain  of  wheat  from  their  mouths,  —  these  signs 
meant  that  war  would  be  successful,  or  that  it  would  not 
be,  and  they  decided  according  to  these  whether  there 
should  be  a  war  or  not.  And  those  great  magistrates, 
who  were  sometimes  men  of  the  greatest  eminence,  like 
Cicero,  were  augurs.  You  know  what  Cicero  says,  "  Two 
of  us  cannot  meet  without  laughing ; "  because  they  knew 
that  their  auguries  were  utterly  worthless,  but  the  multi- 
tude thought  they  were  true.  So  the  Romans  were  super- 
stitious to  the  highest  degree,  and  they  have  never  ceased 
to  be  30.  There  is  superstition  in  the  marrow  of  their 
bones.  Many  Romans  are  ready  to  believe  any  thing 
to-day,  at  the  present  moment.  I  shall  allude  to  a  single 
fact.    They  all  believe  devoutly  in  the  evil  eye ;  that  there 


OF    THE   ROMISH   CHURCH.  *l*l 

are  people  who,  if  they  look  at  you,  will  bring  upon  you 
some  horrible  misfortune,  disease,  or  death.  They  believe 
this  so  fully,  that  they  have  a  gesture,  representing  with 
their  fingers  a  pair  of  horns ;  and,  when  they  meet  any 
one  who  is  supposed  to  have  the  evil  eye,  they  endeavor, 
in  a  secret  way,  to  make  that  sign,  to  prevent  misfortune 
from  coming  upon  them.  It  is  believed,  in  Rome,  that 
the  present  pope,  who  is  to  them  God  on  earth,  ^^\o  is 
to  them  the  successor  and  vicar  of  Jesus  Christ,  that 
he,  as  a  man,  has  the  evil  eye.  And  when  he  passes 
through  the  streets  of  Rome,  a  great  many  women,  de- 
voutly kneeling  before  him,  with  their  heads  almost  in 
the  dust,  craving  to  receive  his  blessing,  as  he  passes  in  his 
caniage,  will,  under  their  aprons,  make  this  sign,  to  pre- 
serve themselves  fi-om  the  effects  of  the  evil  eye.  This 
is  no  disparagement  to  his  person ;  they  think  that  the 
poor  man  cannot  help  it ;  that  there  is  no  ill  will  in  it ; 
that  it  is  fate ;  he  has  the  evil  eye. 

I  could  cite  many  other  instances  of  this  superstition ; 
perhaps  it  will  be  enough  to  refer  to  one  more,  and  one 
that  disgusted  me  completely.  It  is  the  worship  with 
which  they  surround  the  Santo  Bambino.  There  is  on 
the  Capitoline  Hill  a  church  that  was  formerly  a  heiithen 
temple,  and  which  has  kept  an  old  name,  "^ra  GcbU^^ 
or  "altar  of  Heaven."  In  that  church,  the  Franciscan 
monks  keep  a  very  ugly  doll.  This  doll  is  said  to  have 
been  sculptured  out  of  one  of  the  olive-trees  on  the  Mount 
of  Olives,  and  then  Saint  Luke  is  supposed  to  have  painted 
it  over.  Saint  Luke  must  have  been  the  painter  of  the 
poorest  daubs  that  ever  were  in  the  world,  and  the  angels 
who  took  it  to  him  must  have  been  very  far  from  being  con- 
noisseurs of  painting.     This  doll  is  covered  with  diamonds, 


78  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

emeralds,  sapphires,  and  other  precious  stones,  of  greatest 
price.  It  is  kept  in  a  box  on  the  altar,  and,  when  you 
ask  to  see  it,  the  monks  pray  before  the  door,  they  light 
tapers,  they  produce  the  box,  and  then  the  box  is  opened, 
and  you  see  the  hideous  little  wooden  image.  Now,  this 
Santo  Bambino  is  supposed  to  have  healing  properties. 
He  heals  people,  when  they  are  rich  enough  to  pay  a  good 
salary  to  him ;  he  is  not  a  physician  who  heals  for  nothing. 
He  has  a  magnificent  carriage  of  his  own,  and  servants 
with  his  own  livery ;  and,  when  any  rich  man  wants  to  be 
cured  by  him,  the  Santo  Bambino  goes  in  his  own  car- 
riage to  the  man's  house,  carried  on  the  knees  of  Francis- 
can monks^  and  cures  the  patient,  —  if  he  can.  Such  is 
the  belief  of  the  country.  But  I  could  not  see  any  very 
great  difference  between  that  doll  and  the  idols  that  the 
old  Romans  Had,  and  used  in  the  same  way.  The  idea  is 
this:  they  suppose  that  the  Santo  Bambino  represents 
Christ  as  a  little  child. 

Not  only  were  the  old  Romans  superstitious,  but  we 
know,  by  historical  testimony  coming  from  the  heathen 
themselves,  that  at  the  time  when  Christianity  appeared 
there  was  an  increase  of  superstition ;  there  was  a  general 
feeling  of  a  want  of  something  definite,  something  like  a 
sort  of  atonement ;  and  at  that  time  all  sorts  of  ceremonies, 
all  sorts  of  bloody  sacrifices,  were  introduced  from  Syria, 
from  Libya,  from  the  most  remote  countries,  and  the  Ro- 
mans tried  to  find  for  their  consciences  some  satisfaction 
in  those  rites.  For  instance,  you  all  know  they  had  a 
custom  of  having  their  sins  expiated  by  means  of  what 
they  called  taurobolium.  A  man  had  a  grave  dug  in  the 
ground,  and  then  over  that  grave  was  put  a  marble  slab, 
with  a  great  many  holes  in  it,  like  a  sieve.    In  that  grave 


OF   THE   ROMISH    CHURCB.  79 

the  man  stretched  himself  at  full  length,  and  over  the 
marble  slab  a  bull  was  killed,  in  such  a  way  that  the  blood 
fell  through  the  holes  into  the  grave.  When  the  bull 
was  taken  away,  and  the  marble  slab  was  lifted,  the  man 
rose  out  of  that  grave  perfectly  covered  with  the  blood  of 
the  bull,  entirely  bathed  in  that  blood.  Then  he  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  new  man,  supposed  to  be  washed  of  all  his 
sins.  He  believed  that  from  that  moment  the  anger  of  the 
gods  had  passed  to  the  bull,  and  that  the  blood  of  the  bull 
had  been  shed  instead  of  his  own.  We  find  in  Ovid,  one  of 
the  poets  of  the  time,  the  prayer  of  a  man  for  whom  was 
about  to  be  offered  up  the  sacrifice  of  the  black  hen.  He 
asks  the  gods  to  take  the  heart  of  the  hen  instead  of  his 
own,  the  fibres  of  the  hen's  body  instead  of  the  fibres  of  his 
own  body.  The  poor  black  hen  was  sacnficed  in  the  most 
cruel  way  they  could  find;  she  must  suffer  as  long  as 
possible,  because  then  the  anger  of  some  god  who  was 
supposed  to  pursue  the  man  found  full  satisfaction.  The 
ferocity  of  the  god  had  ample  satisfaction  in  the  torture 
of  the  poor  black  hen,  and  the  sins  of  the  man  were 
expiated.  Then  there  was  superstition  upon  superstition, 
because,  when  the  mangled  remains  of  the  unfortunate 
hen  were  thrown  into  the  street,  if  any  person  uncon- 
sciously put  his  foot  on  that  body,  then  he  became  the  in- 
L3ritor  of  the  crimes  of  the  first  man,  and  of  the  anger  of 
the  gods.  They  had  a  special  name  for  those  bloody  re- 
mains of  the  sacrificed  fowl :  they  called  them  purgamen- 
turn,  because  they  thought  that  such  a  sacrifice  purged  a 
man  of  his  sins.  As  nobody  dared  lift  or  touch  the  body 
of  the  victim,  they  put  a  fence  around  it ;  and,  as  long 
as  there  remained  on  the  ground  in  the  streets  of  Rome 
a  vestige   of  the  poor  bird,  nobody  would    tread    on 


80  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

that  place;  and  the  fence  was  put  there  to  prevent  this. 
These  were  the  superstitions  ol  that  time;  and  Plutarch 
wrote  a  treatise  to  which  he  gives  the  title  JEiaidaifiovia, 
which  is  translated  very  often  by  the  word  "  superstition ; " 
but  it  means  more  than  that,  it  means  "terror  of  the  gods." 
It  means  that  feeling  which  was  more  and  more  prevailing 
in  tlie  Roman  world,  that  the  gods  were  to  be  feared ;  that 
there  was  anger  in  heaven ;  that  the  earth  could  not  de- 
fend itself  against  the  bad  will  of  a  supernatural  power. 
We  can  very  well  understand  that  when  Christianity  was 
preached  to  those  people  they  were  happy  to  take  that 
religion  of  hope,  that  religion  of  regeneration  and  sanctifi- 
cation.  It  was  to  them  a  marvellous  deliverance  to  be 
out  of  that  old  doctrine  and  in  the  new  one.  But  they 
carried  with  them  many  habits  of  thought,  many  things 
which  were  inherent  in  the  ancient  religion.  Among 
those  things  was  the  habit  of  multiplying  the  divine 
being.  Tliey  had  been  for  a  long  series  of  centuries  poly- 
theists,  believing  in  many  gods.  With  their  superstitious 
fears,  they  were  always  afraid  there  were  not  gods  enough. 
That  was  saying  a  good  deal,  for  they  had  more  than 
30,000  of  them  at  the  time  of  Christ.  It  was  recognized 
that  nobody  could  even  know  them  all  by  name. 

Again  you  will  excuse  me  if  I  use  here  a  very  familiar 
illustration  to  make  the  leading  thought  of  polytheism 
understood. 

You  know  that  in  fairy  tales  the  fairies  are  always  called 
in  to  the  festival  at  the  baptism  of  the  infant  child.  The 
intention  is  to  invite  them  all,  but  there  is  always  one 
forgotten ;  and  that  one  curses  the  child  in  some  way  or 
other ;  and  then  all  the  gifts  of  all  the  good  fairies  cannot 
prevent  the  child  from  suffering,  at  least  for  a  time,  from 


OF    THE   ROMISH    CHURCH,  81 

the  bad  will  of  the  one  that  has  been  forgotten.  This 
involves  the  essential  idea  of  polytheists.  They  had 
always  the  thought  that  all  the  good  gods  whom  they 
worshipped  could  not  prevent  any  malevolent  one  who 
had  been  neglected  from  hurting  them ;  and  they  were 
always  in  search  of  that  one.  They  were  always  making 
altars  "  to  the  unknown  god  or  gods,"  to  be  certain  in  that 
way  to  include  them  all.  They  were  constantly  asking 
what  gods  were  worshipped  in  such  a  country,  in  such  a 
place ;  and  if  it  was  a  god  that  was  not  known  among 
them,  straightway  they  prepared  a  place  for  his  wor- 
ship. They  said,  "  He  has  no  existence,  very  likely ; 
but  if  he  has,  if  he  lives,  then  we  must  sacrifice  to  him, 
to  prevent  his  spoiling  the  happiness  that  the  other 
good  gods  wish  to  give  us."  So  there  was  an  inces- 
sant adding  to  the  immense  number  of  gods.  At  the 
time  of  Christ,  they  had  so  many  of  them  that,  from 
the  time  a  grain  of  corn  was  put  into  the  ground  to  the 
time  the  harvest  commenced,  they  had  nine  different 
deities  who  in  succession  took  charge  of  the  corn  that  had 
been  put'  into  the  ground,  and  thus  it  passed  from  one  god 
to  another.  Nine  of  them  were  necessary  while  the  grain 
was  in  the  ground.  Thus,  when  the  heathen  became 
Christians,  they  had  been  in  the  constant  habit  of  adding 
gods  to  their  heaven,  of  adding  good  men  to  their  gods, 
and  also  men  not  good,  but  whom  they  feared,  —  for  all 
the  emperors  were  made  gods  the  moment  they  died,  so 
that  one  of  them,  who  was  rather  a  wit,  when  he  was 
dying  said,  "I  feel  that  I  am  becoming  a  god."  The 
heathen  had  become  so  habituated  to  this  that,  when  they 
became  Christians,  they  continued  very  naturally  to  mul- 
tiply the  number  of  the  objects  of  worship.    They  soon 

4* 


82  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

ceased  to  make  the  slightest  difference  between  Christ  and 
the  Father.  In  good  time  they  unconsciously  put  Mary, 
the  mother  of  Christ,  above  Christ;  now,  without  ever 
having  this  intention,  they  put,  in  fact,  Mary  above  the 
Father.  And  so  on,  adding  always  a  new  god  to  a  new 
worship,  and  always  making  the  new  worship  as  binding 
and  as  efficacious  as  possible,  to  satisfy  that  polytheistic 
craving.  They  did  not  understand  their  error  in  keeping 
between  the  infinite  God  and  themselves  an  immense 
number  of  minor  deities.  This  craving  was  unwholesome, 
but  very  sincere.  That  unconscious  wish  to  multiply  gods 
and  make  saints  has  continued  to  this  day ;  and  no  pope 
has  canonized  so  many  saints  as  the  present  one,  who  is 
always  trying  to  show  that  he  does  more  in  tliis  way  than 
any  of  his  predecessors. 

This  will  suffice  to  give  you  an  idea  of  what  the  old 
Bpirit  of  Rome  was,  the  whole  tendency  of  the  Roman 
mind,  and  what  was  brought  by  them  into  the  church.  I 
must  now  ask  you  to  go  in  imagination  with  me  to  the 
tomb  of  one  of  those  old  Romans,  who  were  not  burned, 
according  to  the  custom  of  that  period,  say  the  Scipios. 
Suppose  one  of  the  Scipios  taken  out  of  his  tomb ;  and 
bring  him  into  a  Roman  Catholic  Church :  do  you  think 
he  will  be  very  much  astonished  ?  He  will  be  astonished 
at  one  thing,  —  by  the  crucifix,  the  image  of  the  crucified 
Son  of  God.  That  was  completely  contrary  to  the 
Roman  ideal  and  their  habit  of  thought.  But  all  the 
other  things  he  will  see  will  not  astonish  him  at  all. 
He  had  seen  them  all  his  life  in  his  own  time.  You 
believe,  perhaps,  that  the  shape  of  a  Roman  Catholic 
Church  at  Rome  will  astonish  a  pagan?  Not  at  all. 
Cato  had  given  the  Romans  the  pleasure  of  enjoying, 


OF    THE    ROMISH   CHURCH.  88 

for  the  first  time,  a  portico  with  three  ranges  of  col- 
umns, the  middle  aisle  being  broader  than  the  others ; 
and  at  the  end  was  what  we  call  an  apse,  but  the 
ancients  a  conch.  The  end  was  rounded  off,  and  thrown 
into  the  form  of  a  semi-circle,  and  the  tribunal  for  the 
praetor  or  judge  was  placed  in  that  half-circle  at  the  end. 
This  portico  was  called  a  stoa  basilica^  and  the  first  Roman 
Christian  churches  were  built  on  that  plan.  Afterwards, 
the  idea  came  of  making  the  church  in  the  shape  of  a 
cross ;  and  then  a  smaller  basilica  was  placed  across  the 
other,  forming  the  transept  of  the  church.  But  those  long 
ranges  of  columns  remained,  with  the  same  wide  space 
in  the  middle,  and  narrower  aisles  on  either  side.  The 
basilica  was  the  form  of  public  buildings  most  in  fashion 
in  Rome  at  that  time.  There  the  gothic  style  was  never 
popular.  Even  now,  of  four  or  five  hundred  chm*ches  in 
Rome,  only  one,  the  Minerva,  is  gothic.  When  Christian 
architecture  was  born.  Christian  architecture  accepted  the 
heathen  plan. 

In  the  new  church,  in  that  basilica,  what  do  we  find  ? 
We  find  holy  water  at  the  door.  That  was  exactly  what 
you  found  in  the  pagan  temple,  only  it  was  called  lustral 
water.  In  the  temple,  my  Scipio,  who  goes  with  me, 
recognizes  all  his  old  habits  of  thought,  all  the  old  em- 
blems of  his  religious  devotion.  He  sees  a  number  of 
statues,  or  images;  but  he  has  seen  those  all  his  life. 
There  is  not  only  a  central  shrine,  but  there  are  small 
chapels.  The  saints  have  a  golden  circle  round  their 
heads:  Christians  call  it  the  awm,  the  ancients  called 
it  the  nimbus  ;  but  it  was  exactly  the  same  thing.  They 
had  it  around  the  heads  of  their  deities  in  painting  and 
sculpture,  and  so  on.    There  are  censers  and  there  are 


84  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

tapers  burning  there ;  and  there  are  all  the  ornaments  a 
pagan  was  accustomed  to  see  in  his  temple.  All  those 
things  had  been  kept,  had  been  re-established,  and  the 
pagans  had  brought  them  with  them  into  the  Catholic 
churches.  When  I  went  for  the  first  time  to  Naples,  the 
man  who  showed  me  the  museum  there  showed  me  feet, 
legs,  and  arms,  hands,  eyes,  and  ears,  in  stone.  lie  said, 
"  These  are  ex  votoy  People  who  were  ill  gave  to  some 
of  the  gods,  the  ones  they  chose,  these  things  as  marks  of 
gratitude  for  having  been  cured.  The  cicerone  told  me, 
"  You  see,  sir,  it  is  exactly  the  same  thing  we  have  in  our 
churches."  And  so  it  is.  In  all  the  churches  in  Naples 
and  Rome,  and  in  the  Roman  Catholic  churches  all  over 
Spain  and  France,  you  see,  in  wax,  in  gold,  in  silver,  and 
in  stone,  such  legs  and  arms,  eyes  and  ears.  It  is  exactly 
the  same  thing.  The  heathen  man  said  to  his  god,  "I 
will  pay  you  by  this  mark  of  honor  and  gratitude,  by  this 
mark  of  your  power  and  your  glory,  if  you  cure  me." 
The  Roman  Catholic  says  exactly  the  same  thing  to  a 
saint,  to  the  Virgin,  sometimes  to  Jesus,  and  very  rarely 
to  God. 

I  cannot  mention  here  all  the  other  details,  like  funeral 
services  at  the  end  of  the  year,  like  funeral  chapels,  like 
many  other  institutions  that  exist  in  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church,  that  are  practised  every  day  in  it,  and  that  are 
exactly  the  same,  so  far  as  religious  ideas  go,  as  were 
practised  in  the  pagan  churches.  But  I  must  add  some- 
thing of  more  consequence  than  that,  about  the  wor- 
ship of  human  beings,  and  especially  of  the  worship  of 
the  Virgin  Mary.  It  was  nothing  new  to  the  Pagans 
to  worship  a  woman,  and  especially  to  worship  a  virgin. 
That  was  one  of  the  ideas  the  most  familiar  to  their  devo- 


OF    TUE   ROMISH    CHURCH.  85 

tioii.  In  Rome  tliey  had  the  temple  of  Hestia  or  Yesta, 
who  was  supposed  to  be  a  vh-gin ;  and  she  had  around 
her  nuns  who  were  pledged  to  live  in  celibacy,  and  pun- 
ished by  death  if  they  did  not  remain  true  to  their  vow. 
In  Greece  it  was  the  same  thing  with  Pallas.  Perhaps 
you  all  know  that  in  Athens,  the  largest,  most  perfect, 
and  most  beautiful  of  the  Greek  temples  —  immensely 
superior  to  any  edifice  I  ever  saw  in  any  country  —  is 
called  the  Parthenon,  which  means  the  Virgin  Temple. 
That  temple  is  the  temple  of  Pallas,  —  Athene,  or  Min- 
erva, —  who  was  the  principal  deity  of  Athens.  Thus  that 
idea  was  perfectly  familiar  to  them,  and  they  only  kept  it, 
and  brought  it  with  them  into  Christianity. 

I  have  spoken  of  monks.  You  must  not  believe  that 
the  monks  are  by  any  means  a  Roman  Catholic  invention. 
In  the  East  there  have  been  monks  in  all  times  and  in  all 
rehgions.  It  seems  to  have  been  a  special  habit  or  taste  of 
the  people  of  the  East  to  give  some  men  no  other  busi- 
ness, no  other  work  to  do,  but  to  live  in  solitude,  and  pray 
for  them ;  and  some  men  have  always,  in  those  very  hot 
countries,  where  it  is  exceedingly  tiresome  to  work,  liked 
to  live  in  perpetual  prayer  better  than  any  other  more 
fatiguing  labor.  We  find  the  monk  in  all  times  and 
countries  in  the  East,  then  in  the  West;  and  he  has 
been  imported  from  paganism  into  Christianity,  like  all 
the  rest.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  a  religion  more  com- 
pletely contrary  to  the  monastic  feeling  than  the  religion 
of  Christ.  I  do  not  think  there  was  ever  a  type  more 
radically  contrary  to  the  type  of  the  monk,  than  the 
figure  of  Christ  as  we  find  it  in  the  Bible.  However, 
that  old  monkish  spirit  of  the  Orient  was  always  known 
to  the  Romans  from  the  beginning ;  for  they  had  priests 


86  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

and  monks  fi-om  the  time  tlieir  city  began.  That  spirit 
has,  like  other  things,  been  smuggled  into  the  Church, 
though  it  was  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  Christianity. 

I  must  recall  one  last  rite  of  great  importance.  Both 
the  old  Romans  and  the  old  Jews  had,  as  a  principal  part 
of  their  worship,  the  rite  of  sacrifice.  The  origin  of  it  was 
Bimply  this:  that  men  in  the  first  place  possessed  nothing 
but  flocks,  and  tliey  gave  to  God  one  head  of  their  flock, 
one  sheep,  or  one  bull,  as  being  the  only  riches  they  had  to 
give.  Before  they  had  houses,  before  they  had  garments, 
before  they  had  any  other  thing,  —  money  they  were  very 
far  from  liaving,  —  men  had  to  eat,  and  they  had  flocks 
because  they  wanted  to  have  meat  to  eat ;  and  thus  they 
gave  to  God  the  only  necessity  of  life  to  them,  the  only 
thing  they  understood  the  importance  of.  And  they  gave 
him  the  whole  animal,  not  reserving  to  themselves  any  part 
of  it,  in  some  cases ;  in  other  cases,  a  part  of  it  only,  mak« 
ing  a  meal  of  the  rest  for  themselves.  To  give  a  part  to 
God  was  one  essential  element  of  their  worship,  the  rite  of 
sacrifice ;  and  we  find  that  the  rite  grew  out  of  that,  and 
nothing  else.  It  was  a  habit  deeply  rooted  in  the  Roman 
mind,  and  at  the  same  time  already  fiimiliar  to  the  Jews ;. 
and  when  those  Christians  who  had  been  Jews  spoke  of 
Christ  to  the  Romans,  they  could  not  prevent  that  Roman 
*or  Jewish  habit  from  taking  double  force,  and  double  space 
in  religion.  What  happened  ?  It  happened  that  the  old 
Romans  and  old  Jews  wanted  a  sacrifice ;  wanted  to  giv& 
something  to  God ;  wanted  a  victim ;  and  then  came  this 
strange  fact,  very  easy  to  understand  however,  of  which 
we  find  traces  in  the  first  days  of  Christianity,  —  that  there 
was  no  better  victim  to  oflTer  to  God  than  Christv  When 
they  had  identified  completely   Christ  with  the  Father, 


OF    THE   ROMISH   CHURCH.  8T 

then  there  was  no  greater  victim  to  offer  to  God  than  God 
himself.  Therefore,  they  had  a  sacrifice  that  is  called  "  the 
mass."  You  know  the  official  name  is  "  sacrifice  of  the 
mass."  It  consists  in  this.  The  priest  takes  the  host,  which 
is  merely  bread,  —  it  is  nothing  but  a  little  flour  and  water, 
made  into  bread,  —  he  pronounces  the  consecrating  words; 
then,  after  he  pronounces  them,  there  is  no  bread,  there  is 
no  flour ;  instead  of  the  bread,  instead  of  the  flour,  there 
is  Jesus  Christ.  According  to  the  Council  of  Trent,  that 
is  Jesus  Christ,  his  body,  his  blood,  his  soul,  and  his  di- 
vinity ;  it  is  Jesus  Christ ;  is  perfect  God.  And  this  has 
been,  by  an  old  Roman  Catholic  writer,  very  clearly  ex-» 
pressed  in  these  three  words :  "The  priest,  what  is  he?  what} 
does  he  do  ?  Creatus  Creatorem  creatP  He  is  a  creat- 
ure who  creates  the  Creator.  After  that  comes  the  second 
gi-eat  part  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass.  There  is  God,  and 
the  priest  sacrifices  God  to  God.  And  how  ?  Sacrificai. 
mandiLcando.  That  is  to  say,  according  to  the  formal  ex- 
planation, he  sacrifices  God  by  eating  God.  This  is  the 
sacrifice-  of  the  mass.  If  the  Roman  mind  had  not  been 
accustomed,  as  I  have  shown  you,  to  superstition,  to  all 
literalism,  to  the  love  of  the  law  and  the  letter,  even  when 
the  law  or  the  letter  was  absurd,  they  would  not  easily  have, 
accepted  all  this ;  but  with  their  turn  of  mind,  with  their 
way  of  taking  things,  that  was  exactly  what  they  wished 
for,  and  that  was  what  they  adopted.  Not  at  once :  it. 
was  very  long  in  elaborating  itself.*  It  was  so  completely, 
I  cannot  say  otherwise,  so  completely  absurd,  that  it  re- 
quired a  great  deal  of  time  to  make  it  so  precise ;  but  they 
attained  to  that  at  last,  and  they  could  not  but  do  so. 
See,  then,  what  a  man  the  priest  is.  He  has  before  him 
bread,  and  he  makes  God ;  he  afterwards  sacrifices  God  j 


88  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

he  is  almost  a  God  himself.  At  the  moment  when  he 
makes  God,  he  seems  to  be  superior  to  God ;  at  the  mo- 
ment when  he  sacrifices  God,  by  eating  him,  he  seems 
superior  to  God.  Thence  comes  the  immense  power  of 
the  priesthood,  of  priestcraft.  And  as  if  this  were  not 
enough,  in  the  mass,  as  you  know,  the  priest  has  not  only 
the  host,  but  he  has  the  wine,  the  cup.  The  other  mem- 
bers of  the  church  have  not  the  cup,  because  they  must 
not  be  equa.  to  the  priest  even  in  the  communion;  even 
in  the  act  of  uniting  themselves  with  God.  Laymen  can- 
not arrive  at  the  height  of  glory  to  which  the  priest 
airives ;  they  must  eat  the  host  when  it  is  given  to  them, 
but  they  cannot  touch  the  cup ;  that  is  reserved  to  the 
priest,  a  sort  of  heavenly,  or  divine,  or  godlike  character. 
Even  as  the  Romans  had  respected  their  old  bridge-makers, 
their  old  pontijices^  their  old  priests,  whom  they  considered 
the  bulwarks  of  their  town,  they  respected  afterwards  the 
priests  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  So  the  mass  was 
established,  with  all  its  consequences. 

This  is  not  all.  I  must  explain  exactly  how  a  part  of 
the  heathenish  religion  answered,  in  the  time  of  Jesus,  the 
wants  of  the  heathen  better  than  the  more  natural  religion 
of  the  Christians.  At  the  time  of  Christ,  many  Romans 
did  not  believe  in  thirty  thousand  gods  and  in  all  the 
absurd  and  indecent  history  of  those  thirty  thousand 
deities,  but  they  had  a  form  of  worship  that  had  become 
purer  and  purer.  They  had  what  they  called  "  Mysteries." 
In  Greece,  and  in  Rome  also,  there  were  "  Mysteries."  These 
were  ceremonies  in  which  great  philosophic  and  religious 
lessons  were  given.  There  exists  a  very  touching  letter 
from  Plutarch  to  his  wife,  written  at  the  time  he  lost  his 
only  daughter,  and  when  they  were  in  the  deepest  affliction 


OF   fHE   ROMISH    CHURCH.  80 

and  desolation.  He  writes  to  his  wife,  who  was  separated 
from  him  at  that  time,  a  very  kind  and  loving  letter,  trying 
to  give  her  comfort  and  hope.  He  says  to  her,  "  Remember 
the  beautiful  things  we  have  seen  together  in  the  Mysteries 
of  Bacchus."  You  must  not  believe,  as  many  would  at 
first  believe,  that  the  Mysteries  of  Bacchus  were  nothing 
but  drunkenness  and  disorder :  they  were  something  else. 
They  were  like  the  Mysteries  of  Ceres,  the  Goddess  of  Corn, 
and  like  the  representations,  in  other  cases,  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul.  They  were  a  sort  of  tragedy  in  which, 
less  by  word  than  by  singing,  and  by  acting  especially, 
Avas  shown  to  men  that,  when  the  body  is  inten*ed  in 
the  ground,  the  soul  lives,  and  the  soul  shall  rise  to  ful- 
ness of  life.  A  grain  of  wheat  hidden  in  the  ground  re- 
mained hidden  there  for  weeks  before  coming  to  life. 
That  was  the  emblem  of  the  new  life  of  immortality.  No\v, 
this  teaching,  good  in  itself,  true  in  itself,  but  given  in 
dramatic  images,  was  at  that  time  the  very  best,  soundest, 
most  human,  and  most  natural  part  of  heathenism.  And 
then  it  happened  that  Mysteries  were  acted,  not  only  in 
the  heathen  churches,  but  in  Christian  churches ;  that  the 
liistory  of  Christ,  that  the  death  of  Christ,  that  the  resur- 
rection of  Christ,  took  the  place  of  the  resurrection  of 
Proserpine,  the  daughter  of  Ceres,  who  represented  wheat 
and  corn ;  and  then  Christianity  became  a  sort  of  subject 
of  sacred  myths,  sacred  plays,  that  were  very  devoutly 
acted,  and  that  kept  their  title  of  "  Mysteries."  As  soon 
as  we  see  something  of  the  dark  ages,  and  what  the  prac- 
tice of  worship  was,  we  see  this  same  thing.  It  is  going 
on  in  all  countries  in  some  measure.  You  may  see  it  in 
the  Roman  Catholic  churches  during  Easter  week.  You 
may  see  then  that,  when  Christ  dies,  all  the  lights  are  put 


90  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

out,  save  one  very  small  light,  because  that  represents  the 
moment  when  the  sky  was  covered  w^ith  darkness  at  his 
death.  And  you  hear  in  a  choir  some  persons  sing  the 
words  of  the  people  who  screamed  "  Crucify  him ! "  and 
others  repeating  the  words  of  Caiaplias  and  the  words 
of  Christ.  This  "Mystery,"  this  serious,  devout  play, 
is  acted  in  all  Roman  Catholic  churches.  Whia  Christ 
is  dead,  the  host  is  taken  away  from  the  altar,  and  it  is 
carried  into  the  tomb,  carried  into  some  lower  chapel, 
fi'om  which  it  comes  back  to  tlie  great  altar  on  Easter 
morning,  on  the  day  of  the  resurrection.  Tliat  solemn 
play  is  going  on  in  all  Roman  Catholic  countries  at  the 
present  time,  and  that  is  a  "Mystery."  Such  is  also  the 
"  Mystery  "  that  was  played  in  Germany,  at  Oberammergau 
(Bavaria),  during  the  last  year,  and  is  played  there  every 
ten  years.  It  is  a  devout,  religious,  serious,  dramatic  rep- 
resentation of  our  Lord's  suffering,  death,  and  resurrection. 
The  mass  in  itself  was  in  the  beginning  a  Mystery ;  it  is 
often  called  so ;  it  is  often  called  in  old  Roman  Catholic 
books  and  often  in  modern  ones  the  "  Mystery  of  the  Mass." 
It  was  a  representation  of  the  death  and  sacrifice  of  Jesus ; 
but  the  Roman  Catholic  spirit  coming  in  declared  that  this 
Mystery  was  not,  like  others,  a  mere  representation,  a 
sacred  play,  but  a  reality ;  and  according  to  the  doctrine 
proclaimed  by  the  Council  of  Trent,  three  hundred  years 
ago,  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass  is  much  more  than  a  repre- 
sentation of  Christ's  death,  of  Christ's  sacrifice,  for  he  is 
sacrificed  anew,  he  suffers  death  really  anew.  And  it  has 
been  declared,  because  some  Protestant  opponents  were 
astonished  at  it,  that  every  time  any  priest  says  mass,  — 
and  every  priest  must  say  mass  at  least  once  every  day,  -^ 
every  time  a  priest  says  mass,  Christ  suffers  again,  and 


OF   THE   ROMISH    CHURCH.  91 

dies  again,  sacrificed  by  the  priest  for  the  redemption  of 
human  kind.  This  is  the  doctrine  of  the  mass,  and  this 
gives  it  a  veiy  tragic,  grand,  and  solemn  effect  in  the  eyes 
of  those  who  beUeve  in  it.  Yet  this  again  is  nothing  but 
Roman  literalism,  the  Roman  way  of  taking  every  thing 
literally. 

Is  all  this  real  Christianity?  At  all  events  I  have  said 
enough,  I  hope,  to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  way  in  which 
the  religion  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  as  he  was  called, 
preached  by  him  on  the  hills  of  Galilee,  —  a  religion  that 
was  quite  spirit,  and  quite  truth ;  a  religion  that  had  at 
that  time  no  bleeding,  no  consecrated  man,  but  that  was 
alive  by  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  conscience  and  in  the 
hearts  of  men,  —  how  that  religion,  purely  spiritual  as  it 
was,  became  all  the  pomp,  all  the  exterior  complications, 
all  the  dramatic  intricacies  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 

And  here  I  stop  to  ask  again.  Can  all  this  suit  the 
urgent  necessities  of  our  times  ?  Is  that  the  truth  after 
which  our  souls  hunger  and  thirst  ? 

Now  I  must,  before  I  end,  say  a  few  words  to  you  about 
the  late  changes.  Do  those  changes  make  matters  better  or 
worse  ?  Let  us  pass  over  ages  and  centuries,  and  come  to 
the  present  lay,  because  I  say  we  must  make  some  change 
in  our  way  of  resisting  the  Church  of  Rome.  I  must  state, 
and  very  rapidly,  what  these  changes  are.  There  are 
three  of  them.  The  first  is,  that  a  new  dogma  has  been 
established.  The  new  dogma  amounts  to  this,  without 
going  into  details,  that  Mary,  the  mother  of  Christ,  was 
created,  at  the  moment  she  began  to  exist,  exempt  from 
original  sin.  All  human  beings  are  guilty  of  Adam's  sin, 
with  one  exception,  and  that  exception  is  Mary.  That  ex- 
ception dates  from  the  very  first  instant  of  her  existence. 


92  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

She  never  was,  even  in  thought  or  in  feeling,  a  sinner; 
she  is  consequently  out  of  the  pale  of  humanity;  she 
is  not  a  human  being ;  she  is  more  than  a  woman,  she  is 
something  godlike  from  before  her  birth.  That  is  the 
dogma.  It  is  not  new;  it  was  invented  in  Spain;  it  is 
a  Spanish,  an  Andalusian  dogma.  It  was  invented  at  a 
time  when  the  Catholics  in  Spain  were  laboring  very  hard 
to  expel  from  their  country  the  Moore,  the  African  Mos- 
lems, who  were  mastere  of  a  great  part  of  Spain,  and  who 
had  more  science,  more  art,  and  more  literary  culture 
than  the  Christians  of  Spain,  but  who  had  absurd  doctrines 
about  the  family  and  about  religion,  as  well  you  know. 
Nothing  could  displease  them  more,  could  astonish  them 
more,  or  could  confound  all  their  ideas  more,  than  to  tell 
them  that  a  woman  was  godlike.  They  thought,  as  all 
Moslems  have  thought,  that  a  woman  had  no  soul ;  and 
here  was  a  woman  who  was  a  goddess  before  her  birth, 
who  was  always  a  goddess.  This  was  something  abso- 
lutely incredible  to  them,  and  it  showed  the  great  differ- 
ence between  Christians  and  Moslems,  between  Spaniards 
and  Arabs.  This  became  the  general  rule  among  the 
Spaniards  of  the  southern  part  of  the  country,  in  Andalu- 
sia especially ;  and  when  they  met  one  another  they  did 
not  salute  with  words  of  good  greeting,  but  for  centuries 
it  was  the  habit  in  Andalusia,  when  one  Spaniard  met 
another,  to  say  to  him,  Ave  Maria  purissimay  and  the 
other  answered.  Sin  pecado  concepida,  which  means  that 
that  dogma  was  proclaimed  every  time  two  pereons  met. 
This  dogma  has  been  taken  into  special  favor  by  the  very 
powerful  order  of  Jesuits.  They  thought  it  was  important 
to  the  church ;  it  was  putting  Mary  in  the  highest  honor, 
to  have  that  dogma  become  the  law  of  the  church.    But 


OF    THE   ROMISH   CHURCH.  93 

up  to  the  present  century,  up  to  last  year  in  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church,  people  could  believe  it  or  not ;  now  the 
Pope  has  declared  that  henceforth  every  man  who  does 
not  believe  that  dogma  is  eternally  lost  and  damned. 
This  he  has  decreed,  after  consulting  with  some  bishops, 
with  whom  he  conferred  about  it,  but  declaring  that  he 
did  so  of  his  own  accord,  because,  as  pope,  he  had  a  right 
to  decid'e  on  that.  He  said,  it  is  no  new  doctrine  ;  it  has 
always  been  in  the  church.  As  the  great  writer  Father 
Perrone  wrote,  "  That  dogma  has  been  developing  itself 
in  the  church  a  long  time."  When  I  saw  the  Church  of 
Rome  speaking  of  a  dogma  "  developing  itself,"  I  thought, 
This  is  the  beginning  of  the  end.  K  they  understand 
that  dogmas  develop  themselves,  that  they  have  not  fallen 
like  aerolites  from  the  heavens,  it  seems  to  me  that  that 
is  the  end  of  infallibility.  Some  people  think  it  was  the 
beginning  of  infallibility,  that  it  was  the  Pope  for  the 
first  time  declaring  a  dogma  for  all  men  without  consult- 
ing officially  or  legally  any  one,  and  that  when  he  had 
done  this  he  had  augmented  his  power.  I  must  remark 
here,  that  when  a  pope  is  very  weak,  the  general  rule  is, 
he  does  something  extremely  strong.  When  he  is  ex- 
tremely weak,  politically,  materially,  he  generally  makes 
some  great  demonstration  of  spiritual  power.  When 
Pope  Gregorius  YII.  kept  Henry  in  his  shirt  a  whole  night 
at  the  door  of  the  castle  of  Canossa  without  opening  the 
door  to  hira,  saying,  "  You  are  a  sinner,  do  penance,"  — 
when  he  did  that,  the  Pope  had  been  expelled  fi-om 
Rome,  he  had  lost  Rome,  therefore  he  must  prove  his 
immense  spiritual  power,  because  his  temporal  power  was 
lost.  And  when  the  present  Pope  has  done  acts  of  au- 
thority greater  than  any  other  pope,  it  has  not  been  because 


94-  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

he  was  strong,  but  because  he  was  weak ;  to  remain  on 
his  throne  he  wanted  to  have  the  bayonets  of  Louis  Bo- 
naparte to  keep  him  in  power.  His  own  subjects  would 
very  soon  have  shown  him  a  second  time  the  way  to  the 
frontier,  if  they  had  not  been  prevented  by  the  bayonets  of 
that  man.  Thus  the  Pope  did  more  towards  asserting  and 
confirming  his  own  power  than  any  of  his  two  hundred  and 
fifty  odd  predecessors.  When  afterwards  he  took  a  new 
step,  it  was  in  continuance  of  this.  He  called  a  council 
when  three  hundred  years  had  elapsed  since  an  oecumenical 
council  had  been  called.  I  know  old  Roman  Catholic 
families  who  had  been  waiting  for  centuries  for  the  moment 
when  an  oecumenical  council  should  assemble,  to  denounce 
before  that  council  the  encroachments  of  the  Pope,  and  to 
ask  that  the  popedom  be  kept  within  bounds  for  the  future. 
Pio  IX.  had  an  oecumenical  council  called,  and  held  it  in 
his  own  house,  in  the  Vatican.  And  there,  in  one  end  of 
one  of  the  transepts  of  the  immense  church  of  Saint  Peter, 
the  Pope  had  himself  declared  infallible  by  the  council. 
Thus  all  the  other  councils  which  had  been  the  hope  of 
such  persons  in  the  church  as  could  not  accept  every  word 
of  the  Pope,  all  those  councils  have  been  sacrificed,  have 
abdicated,  in  the  last  of  them,  at  the  foot  of  the  Pope. 
Now,  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  has  become  very 
logically,  what  it  ought  to  become,  the  same  thing  in  the 
spiritual  world  that  the  Roman  Empire  became  in  the 
temporal  world.  The  Roman  Emperor  was  every  thing ; 
there  had  been  priests  and  magistrates  who  had  great 
powers ;  then  the  emperor  made  himself  dictator,  consul, 
tribune  of  the  people ;  made  himself  high  bridge-maker ; 
took  upon  himself  all  dignities.  He  was  every  thing ;  and 
then  the  whole  Roman  Empire  was  one  man ;  and  some- 


OF    THE   ROMISH    CHURCH.  95 

times  it  happened  that  that  man  was  a  mad  man  like 
Caligula,  who  said,  "  I  am  sorry  that  all  men  have  not  one 
head  that  I  might  cut  it  off."  Such  was  the  unity  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  and  we  see  the  same  fact  in  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church  to  this  extent,  that  there  is  one  human 
brain  that  tliinks  for  all  Roman  Catholics  in  the  world, 
and  if  that  human  brain  decides  that  such  a  thing  is  or  ia 
not,  all  other  human  brains  must  beheve  it,  or  be  damned 
eternally;  there  is  no  choice.  This  is  perfectly  logical; 
this  is  not  an  unexpected  change ;  this  must  have  come 
to  pass.  As  the  Pope  became  physically  weak,  the  more 
absolute  became  the  necessity  that  this  should  be  done. 
Now,  he  is  weak,  he  has  lost  Rome.  Although  it  was 
not  in  my  way,  I  passed  through  Rome  a  few  months  ago 
for  the  purpose  of  seeing  Rome  free,  and  it  was  an  im- 
mense joy  to  see  that.  I  had  seen  Rome  groaning  under 
that  proud,  domineering  government  of  the  priests,  who 
declared  that  their  government  was  the  best  in  the  world, 
while  the  whole  world  called  it  emphatically  il  mal  gov- 
emo.  Now  I  have  seen  it  free ;  and  I  think  no  Bonaparte 
of  France,  nor  any  French  Government,  nor  any  other 
government,  had  any  right  to  give  up  Rome  to  the  priests, 
to  prevent  the  Romans  from  being  masters  in  their  own 
house,  from  being  free  in  their  own  city.  I  must  declare 
to  you,  that  if  in  one  sense  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
has  lost  a  great  deal  because  she  has  lost  that  great 
tradition,  lost  that  long  habit  of  ruling  in  Rome,  and  the 
high  prestige  that  comes  from  it,  yet  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church  has  gained  more  perhaps  than  she  has  lost  in  this. 
You  must  not  believe  that  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  is 
to  disappear  to-morrow,  or  the  next  day :  that  shall  not 
happen.    There  are  hundreds  of  thousands  of  souls  who 


96  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE 

like  better  to  have  one  man  on  a  throne  thinking  for  them, 
taking  on  his  conscience  and  his  honor  the  question  of 
their  salvation,  —  they  like  that  better  than  to  think  for 
themselves :  and  there  will  be  Roman  Catholic  churches 
for  a  long  time  to  come.  They  will  even  be  stronger  in 
one  sense,  because  that  temporal  power  was  so  exercised 
that  it  caused  great  weakness ;  and  now  the  Pope  will  be 
strengtliened ;  will  find  more  interest  and  s^Tiipathy,  be- 
cause he  is  a  king  without  a  crown,  a  king  without  a 
throne ;  in  his  weakness  he  will  find  new  strength. 

What  must  we  do,  we  Protestants,  in  the  presence  of 
this  fact?  Must  we  exaggerate,  must  we  be  unfair  in  our 
attacks?  No.  Must  we  go  to  sleep,  thinking  there  is 
nothing  to  do  ?  No,  not  that  either.  We  must  work ;  we 
must  work  steadily  to  give  light  and  instruction  to  all. 
We  have  here,  —  and  I  have  tried  in  a  very  rapid  way  to 
give  you  an  idea  of  it,  —  we  have  here  history.  That  is 
the  greatest  of  weapons  in  such  a  case  as  this.  Usurpers 
never  hke  history,  because  they  know  very  well  that  his- 
tory condemns  them.  We  must  make  history  known, 
make  the  facts  known,  and  proclaim  liberty  and  the  rights 
of  the  human  conscience.  We  must  do  that  over  the 
whole  world.  I  do  not  believe  that  Protestantism,  as  it 
has  often  been  said,  is  nothing  else  but  Roman  Catholicism 
stripped  of  some  of  its  abuses,  and  without  some  of  its 
errors.  It  is  something  else.  If  there  were  time,  and  I 
could  begin  now  instead  of  ending,  I  would  try  to  show 
you  that  in  the  history  of  Protestantism,  and  even  before 
Protestantism  appeared,  there  has  always  been,  next  to 
that  stream  of  power  of  Roman  Catholicism,  always  becom- 
ing stronger  and  more  encroaching  up  to  these  last  days, 
another  current  of  protest ;  there  have  always  been  men 


OF   THE   ROMISH    CHURCH.  97 

struggling  for  faith  with  liberty,  who  said,  "  That  cannot 
be;"  who  understood  better  the  Gospel,  who  liked  the 
spirit  of  the  Gospel,  the  spirit  of  God  in  Christ,  better 
than  the  spirit  of  Rome.  For  centui'ies  their  mouths  may 
have  been  closed ;  their  speaking  and  teaching  punished 
by  death ;  but  always  they  became  more  and  more  numer- 
ous, and  active,  and  vigorous;  and  then  came  the  great 
day  of  Luther.  Protestantism  has  not  been  a  negation,  a 
remnant  of  Roman  Catholicism,  the  negative  side  of 
Christianity.  I  cannot  adopt  that  idea  in  the  least.  True 
Protestantism  is  full  of  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel ;  it  is  the 
living  soul  of  Christ  in  the  Church,  it  embodies  the  per- 
fect conviction  that  there  is  truth,  that  there  is  salvation, 
that  there  is  liberty,  in  the  Gospel,  and  nowhere  else  so 
completely. 

Now,  we  must  consider  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  as 
being  an  organization  of  power,  the  most  dreadful,  the  most 
tyrannical,  the  most  crushing  organization  of  power  that 
ever  was.  It  is  the  master-piece  of  Roman  genius.  It  has 
been  preparing  during  centuries,  and  it  has  been  complete 
only  since  yesterday.  It  is  a  great  organization  against 
liberty,  against  man's  rights,  against  man's  conscience,  for 
the  honor  of  a  church  and  of  a  man.  And  this  we  must 
resist,  too.  In  my  country,  I  declare  that  the  cause  of  all 
our  ills,  the  fact  that  is  at  the  basis  of  all  our  suffering 
and  all  our  misfortunes,  is  nothing  else  than  Roman 
Catholicism.  This  is  against  the  conscience  of  many 
Bouls;  this  throws  many  people  into  sheer  Atheism, 
because  they  see  no  choice  between  kissing  the  shoe  of  the 
Pope,  as  is  done  in  ceremonies,  and  denying  the  existence 
of  God.  So  they  deny  God  rather  than  submit  to  the 
Pope.     We  must  give  them  sound  teaching,  religious 

6 


98  THE   RISE   AND   DECLINE,    ETC, 

teaching ;  we  must  give  them  the  Gospel.  And  I  came  to 
this  country  to  say  these  things  to  you ;  to  ask  you  to  help 
us  with  all  your  might,  and  with  all  your  heart,  to  do  what 
is  necessary  should  be  done  in  France  to-day ;  what  will  be 
necessary  to  be  done  in  this  country  sooner  or  later,  and 
what  will  be  necessary  to  be  done  in  all  countries,  to  show 
more  and  more  that  "  where  is  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord, 
there  is  liberty." 


SELFHOOD    AND    SACRIFICE. 


Bt  ORVILLE  DEWEY. 


SELFHOOD    AND    SACRIFICE. 


''  I  ^HE  title  which  I  have  chosen  for  this  discourse,  is 
-■■  Selfhood  and  Sacrifice.  My  purpose  is,  to  consider 
what  place  these  principles  have  in  human  culture.  I  use 
the  word,  selfhood,  rather  than  self-regard  or  self-interest, 
because  I  wish  to  go  back  to  the  original  principle  —  self- 
hood, according  to  the  analogy  of  our  language,  describ- 
ing the  simple  and  absolute  condition  in  which  self  exists ; 
as  manhood  does  that  of  man,  or  childhood,  that  of  a 
child.  And  I  say  sacrifice,  rather  than  self-sacrifice,  be- 
cause the  true  principle  does  not  require  the  sacrifice  of 
our  highest  self,  but  only  of  that  which  unlawfully  hin- 
ders outflow  from  self. 

The  subject  of  culture  has  been  brought  before  the  pub- 
lic of  late,  by  Professor  Huxley,  and  Matthew  Arnold,  and 
Mr.  Shairp.  I  do  not  propose  to  enter  into  the  questions 
which  have  engaged  their  able  pens,  but  to-  go  back  to 
those  primary  and  foundation  principles,  which  I  have 
proposed  to  consider  —  the  one  of  which  is  the  centre, 
and  the  other,  the  circumference  of  human  culture, — 
Selfhood  and  Sacrifice. 

It  is  the  object  of  this  course  of  lectures,  in  part  at 
least  as  I  understand  it,  to  discuss  this  subject  —  to  dis- 
cuss, i.e.  the  principles  and  grounds,  on  which  right  reason 
and  rational  Christianity  propose  to  build  up  a  good  and 


102  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE. 

exalted  character.  Now  with  regard  to  what  Christianity 
teaches,  has  it  never  occurred  to  you,  or  has  it  never 
seemed  to  you,  in  reading  the  Gospels,  that  they  appeal 
to  self-interest,  to  the  desire  to  be  saved,  in  a  way  that  is 
at  variance  with  the  loftiest  motives  ?  But  it  is  appealed 
to,  and  therefore  is,  in  some  sense,  sanctioned.  And  yet, 
as  if  this  self-interest  were  something  wrong,  the  preva- 
lence of  it  in  the  world,  the  world's  selfishness  in  other 
words,  is  represented  by  many  preachers,  as  if  it  were  the 
sum  of  all  wickedness,  the  proof  indeed,  of  total  deprav- 
ity. Here  then,  it  seems  to  me,  whether  we  look  at 
Christianity  or  at  the  teachings  of  the  pulpit,  there  is 
urgent  need  of  disciimination.  And  there  is  another 
aspect  of  the  same  subject,  which  seems  to  require  atten- 
tion; and  that  is  what  is  called,  individualism  —  the 
mentally  living,  if  not  for,  yet  in  and  out  of  ourselves ; 
claiming  to  find^  all  the  springs  and  forces  of  fUith  and 
culture  within  ourselves,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  proper 
influence  of  society,  of  Christianity,  of  the  whole  great 
realm  of  the  past,  by  which  we  have  been  trained  and 
formed ;  individualism,  which  says,  "  I  belong  to  myself^ 
and  to  nobody  else,  and  do  not  choose  to  be  brought  or 
organized  into  any  system  of  faith  or  action  with  anybody 
else."  This,  indeed,  is  an  extreme  to  which,  perhaps,  but 
few  minds  go ;  but  there  is  a  tendency  of  this  kind,  which 
needs  to  be  looked  into. 

Now  there  is  a  way  of  thinking,  in  matters  of  practical 
expediency,  to  which  I  confess  that  I  am  committed  by 
my  life-long  reflections ;  and  which  has  always  prevented 
me  from  going  to  the  extreme  with  any  party,  whether  in 
reforms,  in  politics,  in  religious  systems,  or  in  any  thing 
else ;  and  that  is,  to  look  to  the  mean  in  things ;  to  look 


SELFHOOD   AND .  SACRIFICE.  103 

upon  human  nature  and  human  culture,  as  held  in  the 
balance  between  opposing  principles.  With  this  view,  I 
shall  first  undertake  to  show  that  the  principle  of  self- 
regard,  or  of  individualism,  is  right  and  lawful  —  is  indeed, 
an  essential  principle  of  culture. 

There  is  a  remarkable  passage  in  the  old  "  Theologia 
Germanica,"  which  hits,  I  think,  the  very  point  in  this  mat- 
ter of  self-regard.  Speaking  of  its  highest  man,  it  says, 
"  All  thought  of  self,  all  self-seeking,  self-will,  and  what 
Cometh  thereof,  must  be  utterly  lost,  surrendered  and  given 
over  to  God,  except  in  so  far  as  they  are  necessary  to  make 
up  a  person?"^  This  personality,  this  stand-point,  we  must 
hold  to,  go  where  we  will. 

But  let  me  state  more  precisely  what  it  is,  that  is  here 
conceded,  and  must  be  maintained ;  and  why  it  is  impor- 
tant to  defend  and  justify  it.  I  call  it  selfhood  ;  and  the 
word,  I  conceive,  is  philosophically  necessary  to  meet  the 
case.  Because  it  is  a  principle,  that  goes  behind  selfish- 
ness ;  and  of  which  selfishness  is  the  excess  and  abuse. 
Selfishness  calculates,  overreaches,  circumvents.  But 
selfhood  is  simpler.  It  is  the  instinctive,  instantaneous, 
uncalculating  rush  of  our  faculties,  to  preserve,  protect 
and  help  ourselves.  Selfishness  proposes  to  take  advan- 
tage of  others  ;  selfhood  only  to  take  care  of  itself.  It  is 
not,  as  a  principle  of  our  nature,  a  depraved  instinct ;  ani- 
mals possess  it.  It  is  not  moral,  or  immoral,  but  simply 
w/imoral.  It  is  a  simple  force,  necessary  to  our  self-preser- 
vation, to  our  individuality,  to  our  personality.  The 
highest  moral  natures  feel  it  as  well  as  the  lowest.  The 
martyr,  who  gives  up  every  thing  else,  holds  his  integrity 
fast  and  dear.  It  is  written  of  the  great  Martyr,  that, 
'*  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him,  he  endured  the  cross, 


104  SELFBOOD  AND   SACRIFICE. 

despising  the  shame,"  No  being  tliat  is  not  an  idiot,  can 
be  divested  of  all  care  and  regard  for  himself.  And  not 
only  does  necessity  enforce,  but  justice  defends  the  prin- 
ciple. If  happiness  is  a  good,  and  there  are  two  equal 
amounts  of  it,  the  one  of  which  is  mine,  and  the  other  my 
neighbor's,  I  may  in  strict  justice,-  value  and  desire  my 
own  as  much  as  his.  If  I  love  his  more  than  my  own,  I 
go  beyond  the  commandment.  It  is  not  worth  while  to 
put  any  Utopian  strain  upon  the  bond  of  vii'tue ;  nay,  it 
does  positive  harm. 

Yet  this  is  constantly  done ;  to  the  injury  of  virtue,  of 
conscience,  and  of  a  proper  self-respect.  In  our  theories 
of  culture,  we  demand  of  ourselves,  what  is  impossible, 
what  is  unjust  to  ouraelves,  what  repudiates  a  part  of  the 
very  nature  we  would  cultivate.  We  demand  of  ourselves, 
and  we  suppose  that  Chiistianity  demands  of  us,  a  certain 
unattainable  perfection,  —  or  what  we  call  perfection,  — 
a  sinking  of  ourselves  out  of  sight,  and  an  absorption  into 
the  love  of  God  and  men,  quite  beyond  our  reach :  and 
failing  of  that  —  thinking  it  entirely  out  of  our  sphere,  we 
give  up  the  proper  rational  endeavor  to  be  Christians. 
We  make  the  highest  virtue  something  exceptional,  in- 
stead of  regarding  it  as  a  prize  for  us  all.  We  imagine 
that  some  few  have  attained  it ;  that  Jesus  did,  and  that 
a  few  persons,  denominated  saijiis^  have  approached  him  ; 
but  that  for  the  common  run  of  men,  this  is  all  out  of  the 
question.  The  fact  is,  that  Christianity  is  regarded  by 
many,  as  an  enigma,  a  secret  of  the  initiated,  as  an  idle 
vision  or  hard  exaction  —  not  as  a  rational  culture.  Listen 
to  the  conversation  of  the  mart  or  the  drawing-roQm,  you 
will  find  that  the  high  Christian  law  is  but  a  mocking 
dream  in  their  eyes.   "  Giving  to  him  that  asketh,  and  from 


SELFHOOD  AND   SACRIFICE,  105 

him  that  would  borrow,  turning  not  away,  and  to  him 
that  takes  from  us  oui'^  coat,  giving  our  cloak  also ;  and 
turning  the  other  cheek  to  the  smiter;"  —  what  is  this, 
they  say,  but  extravagance  and  fanaticism  ?  As  if  they 
did  not  know  that  there  is  such  a  figure  of  speech  as 
hyperbole ;  and  that  it  was  perfectly  natural,  in  a  society 
where  the  poor  and  the  weak  were  trodden  under  foot,  for 
the  greatest  heart  that  ever  was,  thus  to  pour  out  itself 
in  pleadings  for  sympathy,  commiseration  and  kindness. 
But  the  same  Master  said,  "It  is  profitable  for  thee — it 
is  better  for  thee,"  to  have  some  of  thy  pleasures  cut  off — 
thine  offending  hand  or  eye;  rather  ^Aa^,than  to  have  thy 
whole  being  whelmed  in  misery. 

It  is  really  necessary  in  this  matter,  not  only  to  vindi- 
cate Christianity  as  a  reasonable  religion,  but  to  vindicate 
human  nature  to  itself ;  to  save  it  from  the  abjectness  of 
feeling  that  the  necessity  of  self-lielp  is  an  ignoble  neces- 
sity. Men  say,  "  Yes,  we  are  all  selfish,  we  are  all  bad ;" 
and  they  sink  into  discouragement  or  apathy,  under  that 
view. 

The  conditions  of  true  culture  are  attracting  increased 
attention  at  the  present  time ;  and  it  is  natural  that  they 
should,  when  men's  minds  are  getting  rid  of  theologic 
definitions  and  assumptions,  and  are  coming  to  take  broad 
and  manly  views  of  the  subject.  I  am  endeavoring  to 
make  my  humble  contribution  to  it ;  and  with  this  view, 
to  show,  in  the  first  place,  what  part  our  very  selfhood, 
both  of  right  and  of  necessity,  has  in  it. 

This  principle  lies  in  the  very  roots  of  our  being ;  and 
it  is  developed  earliest  in  our  nature.  Before  the  love  of 
right,  of  vii-tue,  of  truth,  appears  this  self-regard.  Disin- 
terestedness is  of  later  growth.     Infancy  comes  into  the 

6* 


106  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE. 

wojld  like  a  royal  heir,  and  takes  possession,  as  if  the 
world  were  made  for  itself  alone.'  Itself  is  all  it  knows ; 
it  will  by  and  by,  take  a  wider  range.  There  is  a  natural 
process  of  improvement  in  the  very  progress  of  life. 
"  You  will  get  better,"  says  a  dramatic  satirist,^  "  as  you 
get  older ;  all  men  do.  They  are  worst  in  childhood,  im- 
prove in  manhood,  and  get  ready,  in  old  age,  for  another 
world.  Youth  with  its  beauty  and  grace,  would  seem  be- 
stowed on  us,  for  some  such  reason,  as  to  make  us  partly 
endurable,  till  we  have  time  to  become  so  of  ourselves, 
without  their  aid,  when  they  leave  us.  The  sweetest 
child  we  all  smile  on,  for  his  pleasant  want  of  the  whole 
world  to  break  up,  or  suck  in  his  mouth,  seeing  no  other 
good  in  it  —  would  be  roughly  handled  by  that  world's 
inhabitants,  if  he  retained  those  angelic,  infantile  desires, 
when  he  has  grown  six  feet  high,  black  and  bearded ;  but 
little  by  little,  he  sees  fit  to  forego  claim  after  claim  on 
the  world,  puts  up  with  a  less  and  less  share  of  its  good 
as  his  proper  portion,  and  when  the  octogenarian  asks 
barely  for  a  sup  of  gruel  or  a  fire  of  dry  sticks,  and  thanks 
you  as  for  his  full  allowance  and  right  in  the  common 
good  of  life,  —  hoping  nobody  will  murder  him  —  he  who 
began  by  asking  and  expecting  the  whole  world  to  bow 
down  in  worship  to  him  —  why,  I  say,  he  is  advanced  far 
onward,  very  far,  nearly  out  of  sight." 

This  advancement,  thus  springing  out  of  the  very  ex- 
perience of  life,  I  am  yet  to  consider,  and  have  it  most  at 
heart  to  consider.  It  is  of  such  priceless  worth,  it  so  em- 
braces all  that  is  noble  in  humanity,  that  the  importance 
of  the  opposite  principle,  is  liable  to  be  quite  overlooked. 
Selfishness,  which  is  the  excess  of  a  just  self-regard,  is  the 
1  Browning:  A  Soul's  Tragedy,  p.  250. 


SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE.  107 

one  form  of  all  evil  in  the  world.  The  world  cries  out 
upon  it,  and  heaps  upon  it  every  epithet,  expressive  of 
meanness,  baseness  and  guilt.  And  let  it  bear  the  brand- 
ing scorn  ;  but  let  us  not  fail  to  see,  though  selfishness  be 
the  satirist's  mark,  and  the  philosopher's  reproach,  and  the 
theologian's  argument,  the  real  nature  and  value  of  the 
principle,  from  which  it  proceeds. 

Selfhood  I  have  preferred  to  call  it ;  self-love,  be  it,  if 
you  please.  It  is  that,  which  satire  and  false  criticism 
have  misconstrued,  when  they  have  said  that  love  of  kin- 
dred, of  friends,  of  country,  of  God  himself,  is  but  self- 
love.  The  mistake  arises  from  that  primal  and  vital  part 
and  participation  which  ourself  has  in  every  thing  that 
we  enjoy  or  love  or  adore.  This  magnificent  I —  and  I 
emphasize  it,  because  all  meanness  is  thought  to  be  con- 
centred in  that  word  —  this  mysterious  and  magnificent 
I —  this  that  one  means,  when  he  says  I  —  we  may  utter, 
but  can  never  explain,  nor  fully  express  it.  There  are 
great  men  in  the  world,  whose  lives  are  of  far  more  impor- 
tance than  mine  —  statesmen,  commanders,  kings  — but  I 
—  no  being  can  feel  an  intenser  interest  in  his  individual- 
ity than  I  do  in  mine ;  no  being  can  be  of  more  impor- 
tance to  himself  than  I  am  to  myself ;  the  very  poles  of 
thought  and  being  turn  upon  that  slender  line ;  that  sim- 
ple unity,  like  the  unit  in  figures,  swells  to  infinite  multi- 
plication ;  that  one  letter,  that  single  stroke  of  pen  or 
type,  may  be  varied  and  complicated,  till  it  writes  the 
history  of  the  world.  "  I  think,  therefore  I  am,"  said  the 
philosopher ;  but  the  bare  utterance  of  the  word  I,  yields 
a  vaster  inference.  No  animal  ever  knew  what  that  word 
means.  It  is  some  time  before  the  little  child  learns  to 
Bay,  I.    It  says,  "Willy  or  Ellen  wants  this  or  that  —  will 


108  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE. 

go  here  or  there."  What  is  insanity,  but  the  wreck  of 
tliis  personality?  The  victim  loses  himself.  And  the 
morally  insane,  the  prodigal,  when  he  returns  to  reason 
and  virtue,  comes  to  himself. 

"A  man's  self,"  says  Thackeray,  "must  always  be 
serious  to  him,  under  whatever  mask  or  disguise  or  uni- 
form he  presents  it  to  the  public."  Yes,  though  it  were 
as  mime,  harlequin,  jester  fool  almost ;  nor  could  there  be 
a  more  deplorable  or  desj  jrate  condition  for  a  human  be- 
ing, than  to  account  himself  nothing,  or  nothing  worth, 
or  worthy  only  to  be  the  butt  of  universal  scorn  and  con- 
tempt. From  this  utter  ruin,  every  man  is  protected  by 
that  mysterious  and  momentous  personality  that  dwells 
within  him.  We  may  be  little  in  comparison  with  the  gen- 
eral mass  of  interests,  little  in  compaiison  with  kingdoms, 
little  in  comparison  with  the  swelling  grandeur  of  thrones 
and  empires,  little  in  comparison  with  the  great  orb  that 
rolls  round  the  sun,  and  bears  millions  of  such ;  but  we 
are  forever  great  in  the  sense  of  individual  destiny.  This 
swells  beyond  kingships,  grandeurs,  empires,  worlds,  to 
infinitude  and  eternity. 

There  is  anotlier  element  in  this  selfhood,  to  be  con- 
sidered, besides  its  conscious  importance,  and  that  is  free 
will — itself  also  unmoral,  but  indispensable.  For  imagine 
a  rational  being  to  be  placed  in  this  world,  without  free 
will.  He  can  choose  neither  wrong  nor  right.  He  has  a 
conscience,  but  no  freedom  ;  no  power  to  choose  any  thing. 
It  is,  I  think,  an  incongruous  and  impossible  kind  of  exist- 
ence ;  but  imagine  it.  Evils,  troubles,  temptations  press 
against  this  being,  and  he  can  do  nothing;  he  cannot  even 
will  to  resist.  Could  there  be  a  condition  more  horrible  ? 
No ;  man  is  a  nobler  and  happier  being  than  this  amounts 


SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE.  109 

to.  Free  will  is  put  in  him,  on  purpose  to  fight  the  great 
battle  against  evil.  He  oould  ,not  fight,  if  he  could  not 
will.  He  could  not  choose  the  right,  without  being  fi-ee 
to  choose  the  wrong ;  for  choosing  one  path  without  being 
at  liberty  to  take  the  other,  would  be  no  choosing.  Free 
will  is  to  fight  the  battle.  It  is  a  glorious  prerogative. 
And  man,  I  believe,  is  out  of  all  proportion,  happier,  with 
this  power,  all  its  aberrations  included,  than  he  would  be 
without  it.  I  am  glad  for  my  part,  that  I  am  not  passing 
through  this  world,  like  a  car  on  a  railroad,  or  turning 
round  like  a  wheel  in  a  mill ;  that  I  can  go,  this  way  or 
that,  take  one  path  or  another ;  that  I  can  read,  or  write, 
or  study,  or  labor,  or  do  business ;  and  that  when  the  gi*eat 
trial-hour,  between  right  and  wrong,  comes,  though  I  may 
choose  the  wrong,  yet  that  I  can  choose  the  right.  What 
better  would  there  be  for  me  than  this  —  what  better 
constitution  of  a  rational  nature  ?  I  know  of  no  better 
possible. 

Selfhood,  then  —  this  interest  in  ourselves,  being  seen 
to  be  right,  and  the  play  of  free  will  which  is  a  part  of  it 
desirable ;  let  us  turn  finally  to  the  useful  working  of  the 
principle.  You  may  have  said  in  listening  to  me  thus  far, 
**  What  need  of  insisting  so  much  upon  self-regard,  which 
we  all  perfectly  well  understand  ? "  I  doubt  whether  it 
is  so  well  understood ;  and  this  must  be  my  apology.  We 
have  seen  that  the  principle  is  native  and  necessary  to  us ; 
let  us  look  a  moment,  at  its  utility. 

I  am  put  in  charge  of  myself —  of  my  life,  first  of  all. 
So  strong  is  the  impulse  to  keep  and  defend  it,  that  self- 
preservation  has  been  called  the  first  law  of  our  being. 
But  that  argues  an  antecedent  fact — self-appreciation. 
Why  preserve  that  which  we  value  not?    We  defend 


110  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE. 

ourself^  because  we  prize  ourself.  We  defend  our  life, 
with  the  instant  rush  of  all  our  faculties  to  the  rescue. 
"  Very  selfish,"  one  may  say ;  "  And  why  does  a  man  care 
so  much  for  himself;  he  isn't  worth  it."  He  can't  help  it. 
He  obeys  the  primal  bond ;  he  is  a  law  to  himself.  Is  it 
not  well?  Man's  life  would  perish  in  a  thousand  ways,  if 
he  did  not  thus  care  for  it.  The  great,  universal  and  most 
efixictive  guardianship  over  human  life  everywhere,  is  — 
not  government  nor  law,  not  guns  nor  battlements,  not 
sympathy,  not  society  —  but  this  self-care. 

I  am  put  in  charge  of  my  own  comfort,  of  my  suste- 
nance. I  must  provide  for  it.  And  to  provide  for  it,  I 
must  have  property  —  house,  land,  stores,  means  —  some- 
thing that  must  be  my  own,  and  not  another's.  If  I  were 
an  animal,  I  might  find  food  and  shelter  in  the  common 
storehouse  of  nature's  bounty.  But  I  have  other  wants ; 
if  I  have  no  provision  for  them  that  is  my  own;  if  some 
godless  International  League,  or  Agrarian  Law,  could  break 
down  all  the  rights  of  property,  there  would  be  an  end  to 
industry,  to  order,  to  comfort,  and  eventually  to  life  itself 
Whatever  evils,  whatever  monstrous  crimes  come  of  the 
love  of  gain,  its  extinction  would  be  infinitely  worse. 

I  am  put  in  charge  of  my  good  name,  my  place  among 
men.  I  must  regard  it.  I  am  sinking  to  recklessness 
about  virtue  if  I  cease  to  value  approbation.  Even  the 
martyr,  looking  to  God  alone,  seeks  approval.  And  good 
men's  approbation  is  the  reflection  of  that.  To  seek  honor 
from  men  at  the  expense  of  principle,  is  what  the  Master 
condemns  —  not  the  desire  of  honor.  It  has  been  made  a 
question  whether  the  love  of  approbation  should  be  ap- 
pealed to,  in  schools.  It  cannot  be  kept  out,  from  there, 
nor  from  anywhere  else.     If  it  could,  if  the  vast  network 


SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE,  111 

of  social  regards,  in  which  men  are  now  held,  were  torn 
asunder,  society  would  fall  to  pieces. 

Finally,  I  am  put  in  charge  of  my  virtue  —  of  that  above 
all.  And  that  I  must  get  and  keep  for  myself;  no  other 
can  do  it  for  me.  Another  may  stretch  out  the  hand  to 
defend  me  from  a  fatal  blow;  another  may  endow  me 
with  wealth ;  another  may  give  me  the  praise  I  do  not 
deserve  ;  but  no  friendly  intervention,  no  deed  of  gift,  no 
flattery,  no  falsity,  can  give  me  inward  truth  and  integrity. 
That  solemn  point  in  human  experience,  that  question 
upon  which  every  thing  hangs  —  shall  I  do  right?  —  or 
shall  I  do  wrong?  —  is  shrouded  in  the  secrecy  and  silence 
of  my  own  mind.  All  the  power  in  the  world,  cannot  do 
for  me  the  thing  that  I  must  do  for  myself.  To  me,  to 
me,  the  decision  is  committed. 

Now  what  I  have  been  saying,  is  this ;  it  is  well  that 
that  self-regard,  upon  which  so  much  is  devolved,  should 
be  strong;  that  there  should  be  no  apathy,  no  indiffer- 
ence, upon  this  point ;  that  if  ever  a  man  wanders  away 
into  recklessness,  into  idleness,  into  disgrace,  into  utter 
moral  delinquency  and  lawlessness,  he  should  be  brought 
to  a  stand,  and  brought  back  again,  if  possible,  by  this 
intense  and  uncontrollable  regard  for  himself — for  his 
own  well-being.  I  do  not  resolve  every  thing  in  human 
nature,  into  the  desire  of  well  being.  I  do  not  say  that 
the  love  of  life,  of  property,  of  reputation,  still  less  of 
virtue,  is  the  same  as  the  love  of  happiness ;  but  I  say  that 
to  the  pursuit  of  all  these  a  man  is  urged,  driven,  almost 
forced,  by  this  love  of  his  own  well-being;  nay  more  to 
the  pursuit  of  the  highest  eventually,  and  that,  by  the 
very  laws  of  his  nature. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  the  other  principle  which  I  propose 


112  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE, 

to  discuss — that  which  opens  the  whole  field  of  our  cul- 
ture—  the  principle  that  carries  us  out  of,  and  beyond 
ourselves. 

It  has  been  no  part  of  my  design,  in  discussing  the 
principle  of  selfhood,  to  show  the  hinderance  to  cultui*e, 
and  the  evil  every  way,  that  come  fi-om  the  abuse  of  it. 
That  will  be  sufficiently  manifest,  if  it  be  made  to  appear, 
that  all  culture  and  happiness  are  found  in  the  opposite 
direction.  But  if  I  wanted  to  put  this  in  the  strongest 
light,  I  should  point  to  the  pain  and  obstruction  which  are 
experienced  in  a  diseased  self-consciousness.  It  would  be 
a  powei-ful  argument  for  that  going  out  of  self,  which  I  am 
about  to  speak  of.  Self,  if  it  is  a  necessary  stand-point,  is 
yet  liable  to  be  always  in  our  way.  A  morbid  anxiety 
about  our  position,  our  credit  with  men,  the  good  or  ill 
opinion  others  have  of  our  talents,  tastes  or  merits,  causes 
more  misery,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  than  any  other  form 
of  human  selfishness.  See  a  company  of  persons,  in- 
thralled  with  music,  charmed  by  eloquence,  transported  by 
some  heroic  action  set  before  them ;  and  they  forget 
themselves ;  they  do  not  think,  how  they  look,  how  they 
are  dressed,  what  others  think  of  them,  in  their  common 
delight. 

The  sense  of  this,  I  believe  it  was,  that  lay  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  old  Buddhist  doctrine  of  Nirwana  —  i.e.,  self- 
oblivion.  To  lose  this  wearisome,  diseased  self,  seemed  to 
Gautama,  the  great  apostle  of  Buddhism,  to  be  the  chief 
good.  Nirwana  has  been  taken  to  mean  absolute  annihi- 
lation. I  do  not  believe  the  Buddhists  meant  that ;  for 
to  me,  it  is  incredible,  that  any  great  sect,  numbering 
millions,  should  have  so  totally  given  up  the  natural  love 
of  existence,  and  desire  of  immortality ;  and  Max  Miillcr 


((UKIVEESn'Tj 

SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFtC^^  j>  7|^)S&v5*^^>c/ 

and  others  have  brought  that  construction  of  the  Budd- 
hist creed,  into  doubt.  Individuals  may  go  that  length. 
Unhappy  Blanco  White,  tortured  in  body  and  mind,  could 
say  that  he  desired  no  more  of  life,  here  or  hereafter.  A 
German  naturalist  could  say,  "  Blessed  be  the  death  hour 
—  the  time  when  I  shall  cease  to  be."  But  this  revolt 
against  self  and  very  self-existence,  whether  ancient  or 
modern,  I  advert  to,  only  to  show  the  necessity  of  going 
out  from  it,  in  order  to  build  up  the  kingdom  of  God 
within  us.  It  is  notable ;  it  is  suggestive ;  but  it  is  neither 
healthy,  nor  true  to  human  nature.  Far  truer  is  that 
admirable  little  poem  of  David  Wasson's,  originally  en* 
titled  "  Bugle  Notes,"  which  in  unfolding  the  blessing  and 
joy  of  existence,  touches,  I  think,  the  deepest  and  divinest 
sense  of  things. 

But  let  us  proceed  to  consider  the  law  of  sacrifice  — 
not  sacrifice  of  happiness  nor  improvement,  but  the  find- 
ing of  both,  in  going  out  from  self,  to  that  which  is  beyond 
and  above  it. 

A  man's  thought  starts  from  himself;  but  if  it  stopped 
there,  he  would  be  nothing.  All  philosophy,  science, 
knowledge  presuppose  certain  original  faculties  and  intui- 
tions ;  but  not  to  cultivate  or  carry  them  out,  would  leave 
their  possessor  to  be  the  mere  root  or  germ  of  a  man.  A 
line  in  geometry  presupposes  a  point;  but  unless  the 
point  is  extended,  there  can  be  no  geometry;  it  is  a  point 
barren  of  all  science,  of  all  culture. 

Every  intellectual  step  is  a  step  out  of  one's  self.  The 
philosopher  who  studies  himself,  that  he  may  understand 
his  own  mind  and  nature,  is  but  studying  himself  objec- 
tively; his  very  self  thefi  lies  out  of  himself,  and  is  an 
abstraction  to  him.     And  the  mathematician,  the  astron- 


114  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE, 

omer,  the  naturalist,  the  poet,  the  artist,  each  oiie  goes 
out  of  liimself.  His  subject,  his  theoi'em,  His  picture  it  is, 
that  draws  him — not  reward,  not  reputation.  Doubtless 
Newton  or  Plerschel,  when  he  left  his  diagram  or  his 
telescope,  and  seated  himself  in  the  bosom  of  his  family, 
might  say,  "  We  must  live ;  I  must  have  income ;  and  if 
public  or  private  men  offer  to  remunerate  and  sustain  me, 
it  is  right  that  they  should  do  so."  But  the  moment  he 
plunges  into  deep  philosophic  meditation,  he  forgets  all 
that.  Nature  has  more  than  a  bridal  chann,  science  more 
than  golden  treasures,  truth  more  than  pontifical  authority, 
to  its  votaries.  Not  wooing,  but  worship,  is  found  at  its 
shrines  and  altars.  In  the  grand  hierarchies  of  science, 
of  literature,  of  art,  there  is  a  veritable  priesthood,  as 
pure,  as  unworldly,  as  can  be  found  in  any  church.  It  is 
delightful  to  look  upon  its  work,  upon  its  calm  and  loving 
enthusiasm.  The  naturalist  brings  under  his  microscope, 
the  smallest  and  most  unattractive  specimen  of  organized 
matter,  and  goes  into  ecstasies  over  it,  that  might  seem 
ridiculous ;  but  no,  this  is  a  piece  of  holy  nature  —  a  link 
in  the  chain  of  its  majestic  harmonies. 

And  so  every  intellectual  laborer,  when  his  work  is 
noblest,  forgets  himself — the  lawyer  in  his  case,  the 
preacher  in  his  sermon,  the  physician  in  his  patient.  Is 
it  not  true  then,  and  is  it  not  noteworthy,  that  all  the 
intellectual  treasures  that  are  gathered  to  fonn  the  noblest 
humanity,  all  the  intellectual  forces  that  are  bearing  it 
onward,  come  of  self-forgetting  ? 

Equally  true  is  it  —  more  true  if  possible,  in  the  moral 
field.  The  man  who  is  revolving  around  himself,  must 
move  in  a  very  small  circle.  Vanity,  self-conceit,  thinking 
much  of  one's  self,  may  be  the  foible  of  some  able  ana 


SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE,  115 

learned  men,  but  never  of  the  greatest  men :  because  the 
wider  is  the  circle  of  a  man's  thought  or  knowledge,  at 
the  more  points  does  he  see  and  feel  his  limitations. 
Vanity  is  always  professional,  never  philosophic.  It  be- 
longs to  a  narrow,  technical,  never  to  the  largest,  moral 
culture.  And  all  the  moral  forces  in  the  world,  are 
strongest,  di\'inest,  when  clearest  of  self.  When  the 
public  man  seeks  his  own  advancement,  more  than  the 
public  weal,  he  is  no  more  a  statesman,  but  a  mere  poli- 
tician; and  when  the  reforaier  cares  more  for  his  owti 
opinion  than  for  the  end  to  be  gained,  the  people  will  not 
regard  nor  respect  him.  The  world  may  be  very  selfish, 
but  it  will  have  honesty  in  those  whom  it  peimits  to 
serve  it. 

The  truth  is  that  the  whole  culture  of  the  world,  is 
built  on  sacrifice ;  and  all  the  nobleness  in  the  world  lies 
in  that.  To  show  that,  it  is  only  necessary  to  point  to 
those  classes  of  men  and  spheres  of  action,  which  exert 
the  widest  influence  upon  the  improvement  and  welfare 
of  mankind.     They  will  all  be  found  to  bear  that  mark. 

Look,  first,  at  the  professional  teachers  of  the  world  — 
the  authors,  artists,  professors,  schoolmasters,  clergymen. 
In  returns  of  worldly  goods,  their  services  have  been  paid 
less,  than  any  other  equal  ability  and  accomphshment  in 
the  world.  Doubtless  there  have  been  exceptions ;  some 
English  bishops  and  Roman  prelates  have  been  rich ;  and 
some  authors  and  artists  have  gained  a  modest  compe- 
tence. More  are  doing  it  now,  and  yet  more  will.  But 
the  great  body  of  intellectual  laborers,  has  been  poor.  The 
instruction  of  the  world,  has  been  carried  on  by  perpetual 
sacrifice.  A  grand  army  of  teachers  —  authors,  artists, 
schoolmasters,  professors,  heads  of  colleges  —  have  been 


116  SELFHOOD   AND  SACRIFICE. 

throngh  ages,  carrying  on  the  war  against  ignorance ;  but 
no  triumphal  procession  has  been  decreed  to  it ;  no  spoils 
of  conquered  provinces  have  come  to  its  coffers;  no  crown 
imperial  has  invested  with  pomp  and  power.  In  lonely 
watch-towers  the  fires  of  genius  have  burned,  but  to  waste 
and  consume  the  lamp  of  life,  while  they  gave  light  to  the 
world. 

It  is  no  answer  to  say  that  the  victims  of  intellectual 
toil,  broken  down  in  heaUh  or  fortune,  have  counted  their 
work,  a  privilege  and  joy.  As  well  deny  the  martyr's 
sacrifice,  because  he  has  joyed  in  his  integrity.  And  many 
of  the  world's  intellectual  benefactors,  have  been  martyrs. 
Socrates  died  in  prison,  as  a  public  malefactor ;  for  the 
healing  wisdom  he  offered  his  people,  deadly  poison  was 
the  reward.  Homer  had  a  lot  so  obscure,  at  least,  that 
nobody  knew  his  birthplace;  and  indeed  some  modem 
critics  are  denying  that  there  ever  was  any  Homer.  Plato 
travelled  back  and  forth  from  his  home  in  Athens  to  the 
court  of  the  Syracusan  tyrant,  regarded  indeed  and  feared, 
but.  persecuted  and  in  peril  of  life ;  nay,  and  once  sold  for 
a  slave.  Cicero  shared  a  worse  fate.  Dante,  all  his  life 
knew,  as  he  expressed  it,  — 

"  How  salt  was  a  stranger's  bread, 
How  hard  the  path  still  up  and  down  to  tread, 
A  stranger's  stairs." 

Copernicus  and  Galileo  found  science  no  more  profitable 
than  Dante  found  poetry.  Shakspeare  had  a  home ;  but 
too  poorly  endowed  to  stand  long  in  his  name,  after  he  left 
it ;  the  income  upon  which  he  retired  was  barely  two  or 
three  hundred  pounds  a  year ;  and  so  little  did  his  con- 
temporaries know  or  think  of  him,  that  the  critics  hunt  in 


SELFHOOD   AND    SACRIFICE.  117 

vain  for  the  details  of  his  private  life.  "  The  mighty  space 
of  his  large  honors,"  shrinks  to  an  obscure  myth  of  a  life 
in  theatres  of  London  or  on  the  banks  of  the  Avon. 

I  might  go  on  to  speak,  but  it  needs  not,  of  the  noble 
philanthropists  and  missionaries,  often  spoken  of  lightly 
in  these  days,  because  what  is  noblest  must  endure  the 
severest  criticism;  of  inventors,  seldom  rewarded  for  their 
sagacity  and  the  immense  benefits  they  have  conferred 
upon  the  world ;  of  soldiers,  our  own  especially,  buried  by 
thousands,  in  unknown  graves  —  green,  would  we  fain  say 
green  forever  be  the  mounds  that  cover  them !  Let  pro- 
cessions of  men  and  women  and  children,  every  year,  bring 
flowers,  bring  garlands  of  honor,  to  their  lowly  tombs ! 

But  there  is  another  form  of  self-consecration  which  is 
yet  more  essential,  and  which  is  universal.  And  yet  he- 
cause  it  is  essential  and  universal,  the  very  life-spring  of 
the  world's  growth ;  because  it  is  no  signal  benefit,  but  the 
common  blessing  of  our  existence ;  because  it  moulds  our 
unconscious  infancy,  and  mingles  with  our  thoughtless 
childhood,  and  is  an  incorporate  part  of  our  being,  it  is  apt 
to  be  overlooked  and  forgotten.  The  sap  that  flows  up 
through  the  roots  of  the  world  —  it  is  out  of  sight. 
The  stately  growths  we  see;  the  trees  that  drop  balsam 
and  healing  upon  the  nations,  we  see;  the  schools,  the 
universities,  the  hospitals,  which  beneficence  has  buildedj 
we  see ;  but  the  stream  that,  through  all  ages,  is  flowing 
from  sire  to  son,  is  a  hidden  current. 

It  is  one  of  the  miracles  of  the  world  —  this  life  that  is 
forever  losing,  merging  itself  in  a  new  life.  We  talk  of 
martyrdoms ;  but  there  are  ten  thousands  of  martyrdoms, 
of  which  the  world  never  hears.  Beautiful  it  is  to  die  for 
our  country ;  beautiful  it  is  to  surrender  life  for  the  cause 


118  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE. 

of  religious  freedom ;  beautiful  to  go  forth,  to  bear  help 
and  healing  to  the  sick,  the  wounded,  the  outcast  and  for- 
lorn ;  but  there  are  those  who  stay  at  home,  alone,  unknown, 
uncelebrated,  to  do  and  to  bear  more  than  is  ever  done,  in 
one  brief  act  of  heroism  or  hour  of  martyrdom.  In  ten 
thousand  homes  are  those,  whose  life-long  care  and  anxiety- 
wear  and  waste  them  to  the  grave.  They  count  it  no 
praise ;  they  consider  it  no  sacrifice.  I  speak  not,  but  for 
the  simple  truth,  of  that  which  to  me,  is  too  holy  for  eulogy. 
But  meet  it  is,  that  a  generation  coming  into  life,  which 
owes  its  training  and  culture  and  preservation  to  a  genera- 
tion that  is  passing  away,  should  be  sensible  of  this  truth  — 
of  this  solemn  mystery  of  Providence  —  of  this  law  of 
sacrifice,  of  this  outflow  from  self  into  domestic,  into  social 
life,  which  lies  at  the  very  roots  of  the  world. 

There  is  one  further  application  of  the  principle  of  dis- 
interestedness, which  goes  beyond  classes  and  instances 
such  as  I  have  mentioned,  and  embraces  men  simply  as 
fellow-men.  Much  has  been  said  among  us  of  late  years, 
and  none  too  much,  of  the  dangers  of  an  extreme  indi- 
vidualism. We  began  as  a  religious  body,  in  a  strong 
assertion  of  the  rights  of  individual  opinion ;  and  we  went 
on  in  that  spirit  for  a  considerable  time ;  till  it  seemed,  at 
length,  as  if  we  were  liable  to  lose  all  coherence  and  to 
fall  to  pieces  in  utter  disintegration.  But  a  few  years  ago, 
moving  in  that  zig-zag  line  which  marks  all  human  prog- 
ress, we  awoke  to  the  dangers  of  the  situation ;  and  hap- 
pily found  that  if  wo  could  not  agree  upon  any  technical 
definition  of  Christian  faith,  we  could  combine  for  Christian 
work.  The  National  Conference  was  formed ;  a  new  im- 
pulse was  given ;  new  funds  were  poured  into  our  treasury; 
WO  are  circulating  books  and  tracts  more  widely  than  we 


SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE.  119 

have  ever  done  before;  we  are  helping  feeWe  churches 
and  founding  new  ones,  besides  doing  something  for  mis- 
sions abroad :  in  short,  we  are  trying  to  do  the  work  which, 
in  common  with  other  Christian  communions,  properly 
belongs  to  us. 

But  there  is  another  movement,  which  I  regard  with 
equal  interest,  and  which  promises  in  fact,  to  go  deeper 
than  any  thing  else  we  can  do.  I  allude  to  those  Unions, 
in  which,  I  think  the  city  of  Providence  leads  the  way : 
ftnd  in  which  New  Bedford,  Worcester,  and  Brooklyn  have 
followed  the  example.  These  associations  provide  a  pub- 
lic room  or  rooms,  well  lighted  and  warmed,  for  those  who 
will,  to  resort  to  them ;  but  especially  for  the  young,  who 
inost  need  good  culture,  entertainment  and  encourage- 
ment; and  in  these  rooms  are  found  books,  pictures, 
games,  and  music  perhaps ;  and  classes  for  regular  instruc- 
tion may  be  formed,  and  lectures  occasionally  given,  or 
discussions  held ;  in  fact,  whatever  will  contribute  to  the 
general  improvement  and  to  the  pleasant  and  profitable 
passing  of  social  evenings,  may  be  introduced.  This  kind 
of  institution  is  especially  adapted  to  our  smaller  cities ; 
and  may  be  extended  to  our  country  villages.  Our  people 
in  the  country,  live  too  much  apart  and  alone ;  and  besides 
the  direct  advantages  of  these  gatherings  together,  a  mu- 
tual acquaintance  and  a  kindly  feeling  would  be  promoted, 
which  are  of  scarcely  less  importance. 

Let  me  add  that  there  is  a  new  ideal  of  life,  which,  I 
think,  is  slowly  arising  among  us ;  and  which,  when  it  is 
fully  carried  out,  I  believe,  will  make  an  impression  upon 
society,  never  before  seen  in  the  world.  This  is  the  idea 
of  mutual  helpfulness ;  of  every  man's  living  not  to  him- 
self, but  to  God,  in  loving  and  helping  his  kind.     Helpful- 


120  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE, 

ness,  I  say  —  that  which  Mr.  Ruskin  describes  as  the  most 
glorious  attribute  of  God  himself;  and  which  has  so  seized 
upon  his  imagination,  that  he  ventures  to  substitute  for 
"  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord,"  Helpful,  helpful,  helpful,  is 
the  Lord  God  Almighty!  This  will  not  do;  but  it  indi- 
cates a  glorious  tendency  of  modem  thought.  The  old 
ideal  of  life  has  been,  to  get  together  the  means  of  com- 
fort and  enjoyment ;  to  get  wealth,  to  get  a  fine  house,  to 
get  luxuries  for  wassail  and  feasting,  or  to  get  books  and 
pictures;  and  then  to  sit  down  and  enjoy  all  this  good 
estate,  and  transmit  it  to  fortunate  heirs,  with  little  thought 
of  others  —  with  some  charities  perhaps,  but  without  tak- 
ing into  heart  or  life,  the  common  weal,  happiness  and 
improvement  of  all  around. 

What  a  millennium  would  it  begin,  if,  instead  of  this, 
every  man  should  be  thinking,  just  so  far  as  he  can  go 
beyond  taking  care  of  his  own  body  and  soul,  what  he  can 
do  for  others — not  in  any  merely  eleemosynary  way;  not 
merely  to  instruct  and  improve  men,  with  the  pharisaic 
assumption  of  being  better  or  better  off  than  they ;  but 
by  acting  a  brotherly  part  towards  them,  speaking  neigh- 
borly words,  doing  neighborly  deeds,  smoothing  the  path, 
softening  the  lot,  seeing  all  erring  and  sorrow,  and  joy  and 
worth,  as  if  they  were  their  own ;  and  wherever  there  is 
any  difficulty  or  trial  or  need,  to  "  lend  a  hand."  When- 
ever such  a  spirit  enters  into  and  pervades  society,  it  will 
make  a  world,  compared  with  which,  our  time  will  sink 
back  among  the  dark  ages. 

In  short,  when  is  it,  that  a  man  does  and  is,  the  highest 
that  he  is  capable  of?  The  answer  is,  when  forgetting 
himself,  forgetting  advantage,  gain,  praise,  fame,  he  pours 
himself  out,  in  intellectual  or  moral,  and,  any  way,  benefi- 


SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE.  121 

cent  activity.  When  does  culture  or  art  in  him  attain  to 
the  highest  ?  It  is  when  going  beyond  all  thoughts  of 
culture  and  art,  he  flings  himself,  in  perfect  sympathy  and 
free  communion,  into  the  great  mass  of  human  interests. 
It  is  so  that  the  gi-eatest  things  have  been  achieved  in  all 
the  higher  fields  of  human  eflbrt  —  in  writing,  in  eloquence, 
in  painting  and  sculpture  and  music ;  and  it  is  so,  espe- 
cially, that  the  doers  of  great  things,  have  become  the 
noblest  men.  "  Art  for  art's  sake,"  has  been  the  motto  for 
culture,  with  some.  And  to  a  certain  extent,  that  is  true, 
It  is  fine  to  work  for  the  perfection  of  the  work,  and  with- 
out any  intrusion  of  self.  But  a  man  may  work  so,  upon 
a  theme  of  little  or  no  significance  to  the  world's  improve- 
ment or  welfare.  He  may  work  so,  with  small  thoughts, 
small  ideals,  for  which  nobody  cares,  or  has  any  reason  to 
care.  But  so  can  he  not  work  grandly,  however  finished 
be  the  result.  Art  is  for  the  sake  of  something  beyond 
itself.  Only  when  it  goes  out  into  great  ideals  that 
mingle  themselves  with  the  widest  culture  and  improve- 
ment of  men,  only  when  it  strikes  for  the  right,  for 
liberty,  for  country,  for  the  common  weal,  does  it  achieve 
its  end. 

We  have  had  literature  enough,  and  have  it  now,  in 
which  the  writer  seems  hardly  to  go  beyond  himself — 
wilting  out  of  himself  and  into  himself —  occupied  with 
making  fine  sentences,  without  any  earnest  intent ;  and 
which  readers,  used  to  feed  upon  the  honest  bread  of  plain 
English  speech,  hardly  know  what  to  make  ofl  Very  fine, 
these  sparkling  sentences  may  be,  very  beautifiil,  very  apt 
to  strike  with  admiration ;  but  they  divert  attention  with 
surprises,  or  cover  up  thought  with  coruscations.  They 
are  like  gems  that  lie  scattered  upon  the  table ;  they  are 

6 


122  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE. 

not  \vroiight  into  any  well-woven  fabric;  they  do  not 
move  on  the  subject  to  any  conclusion. 

Men  may  win  great  admiration  and  great  fame,  but  not 
great  love ;  though  they  gain,  perhaps,  as  much  as  they 
give.  Only  by  wilting  out  of  the  bosom  of  a  great  hu- 
manity to  the  great  humanity,  can  one  fill  the  measure  of 
good  art  or  good  culture.  Even  Goethe,  of  whom  Pro- 
fessor Seeley  says,  that  "  he  found  every  thing  interesting 
except  the  fact  that  Napoleon  was  trampling  upon  Ger- 
many "  —  a  fatal  exception :  even  Goethe,  with  all  his  art, 
his  marvellous  versatility  and  fine  accomplishment,  failed 
to  reach  the  highest  place,  either  in  the  best  self*culture,  or 
in  men's  best  love.  Savant^  poet,  novelist,  of  high  mark, 
as  he  was,  he  has  no  such  place  as  Newton,  Wordsworth, 
and  Walter  Scott,  in  men's  love.  Schiller  and  Richter,  I 
believe,  are  more  beloved  in  Germany,  than  Goethe. 

In  mere  art,  in  perfection  of  style,  no  writers  have 
equalled  Homer  and  Shakspeare.  But  they  did  not  say, 
"  Alii  for  art's  sake."  They  had  no  thought  but  to  com- 
municate their  thought.  If  singular  felicities  appear  in 
their  style,  little  eddyings  of  exquisitely  turned  conceits, 
as  especially  in  Shakspeare,  they  made  a  part  o^  and 
swept  on  the  strong  current  of  their  ideas.  They  were 
not  introduced  for  their  own  sake,  or  merely  to  please  the 
writer. 

It  has  been  said  that  great  authors  are  bom  of  great 
occasions.  Some  remarkable  era,  some  turn  or  tide  in 
human  thought,  or  in  human  aflTairs,  have  borne  them  on 
to  their  supreme  greatness.  Will  not  the  time  come,  when 
men  shall  so  look  into  the  depths  of  the  human  heart,  into 
the  tragic  or  blissful  experiences  of  all  human  life,  that  no 
great  era  shall  be  necessary  to  make  great  writers  ? 


SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE.  123 

I  believe  it.  I  believe  in  a  perpetual  human  progress  -^ 
progress  in  every  kind,  material,  mental,  moral,  religious, 
divine ;  and  I  greatly  desire  to  say  a  few  words  in  close, 
if  you  will  indulge  me  upon  this  point.  For  I  found  this 
faith  in  progress,  on  the  two  principles  which  I  have  been 
considering  in  this  lecture.  Selfhood  obliges  a  man  to 
take  care  of  himself.  To  go  out  of  himself  is  the  only 
way,  in  which  he  can  take  care  of  himself —  can  take  care, 
that  is  to  say,  of  his  own  improvement  and  happiness.  In 
selfhood,  necessary  as  it  is,  there  is  no  virtue,  and  little 
joy.  Outflow  from  it  —  love,  generosity,  disinterested- 
ness—  embraces  the  whole  sphere  of  our  culture  and 
welfare. 

Can  there  be  any  doubt  upon  either  of  these  points  ■— 
either  the  culture  or  welfare? 

Upon  the  culture,  I  say ;  upon  what  makes  for  human 
improvement.  There  is  evil  enough  in  the  world;  but 
what  nation  or  age  ever  approved  of  it  ?  What  people 
ever  praised  selfishness,  injustice,  falsif^'ing  of  speech  or 
trust  ?  No  literature  ever  celebrated  them.  No  religion 
ever  enjoined  them.  No  laws  ever  enacted  them.  Imag- 
ine a  law  that  proposed  to  reward  villains  and  to  punish 
honest  men.  The  world  would  spit  upon  it.  Imagine  a 
book  or  essay  or  poem  or  oration,  %hat  plainly  set  about  to 
tell  what  a  beautiful  and  noble  thing  it  is,  to  lie,  to  de- 
fraud, to  wrong,  corrupt,  and  ruin  our  fellows.  No  man 
ever  had  the  face  to  do  such  a  thing.  No ;  books  may 
have  taught  such  things,  but  they  never  taught  them  as 
noble  things.  The  man  never  lived,  that  would  stand  up 
and  say,  "  It  is  a  glorious  thing  to  betray  trust,  or  to  ruin 
one's  country,  or  to  blaspheme  God."  Men  do  such  things, 
but  they  don't  reverence  nor  respect  themselves  for  doing 
thcnL 

/ 


124  SELFHOOD   AND   SACRIFICE. 

This  tVen  being  settled —  and  it  is  a  stupendous  fact  — 
the  right  principle  about  culture,  being  thus  set  up,  high 
and  irrepealable  in  the  human  conscience  and  in  the  senti- 
ments of  all  mankind  —  what  says  the  common  judgment 
of  men  about  the  happiness  or  misery  of  following  the 
right  ?  Does  it  say  —  "  It  is  a  blessed  thing  to  be  a  bad 
man ;  it  is  good  and  wise  to  be  a  base  or  cruel  man."  Does 
it  say  —  "  Happy  is  the  miser,  the  knave,  the  drunkard.' 
No,  it  does  not.  There  is  temptation  to  do  wrong ;  then 
all  know;  there  is  a  notion  that  it  may  promote  soma 
temporary  interest  or  pleasure ;  there  is  a  disposition  in 
many,  to  prefer  some  sensual  gratification  to  the  purer 
satisfactions  of  the  higher  nature ;  but  there  is,  at  the  same 
time,  a  deep-founded  conviction,  that  misery  in  the  long 
run  must  follow  sin ;  that  the  everlasting  law  of  God  has 
so  ordained  it  to  he;  and  that  only  the  pure,  the  noble, 
the  heroic,  the  good  and  godlike  affections  can  ever  make 
such  a  nature  as  ours,  content  and  happy. 

Here  then  is  another  stupendous  principle  settled.  And 
now,  I  say,  this  being  is  a  lover  of  happiness.  He  is  not 
wise ;  he  is  not  clear-seeing ;  he  is  not  good  either  —  *.e., 
he  is  not  fixedly  and  detemiinately  good ;  he  is  weak  too ; 
he  is  easily  misled ;  he  is  often  rebellious  to  the  higher 
laws  of  his  nature ;  but  —  I  hold  to  that — ^^he  is  a  lover  of 
happiness ;  and  happiness,  he  knows,  can  never  be  found, 
but  in  obedience  to  those  higher  laws.  He  is  a  lover  of 
happiness,  I  say ;  he  cannot  be  worse  off,  without  wishing 
to  be  better  off;  if  he  is  sick,  he  wants  to  be  weU;  if  his 
roof  lets  in  the  rain,  he  will  have  it  repaired ;  if  the  mean- 
est implement  he  uses,  is  broken,  he  will  have  it  mended. 
Is  it  not  natural  —  is  it  not  inevitable,  that  this  tendency 
should  yet  develop  itself  in  the  higher  concerns  of  his 


JSELFH00l>  AND   SACRIFICE,  125 

being  ?  Is  it  not  in  the  natural  order  of  things,  that  the 
higher  should  at  length  gain  the  ascendency  over  the  lower, 
the  stronger  over  the  weaker,  the  nobler  over  the  meaner? 
How  can  it  be  thought  —  how  can  it  be,  in  the  realm  of 
Infinite  Beneficence  and  Wisdom,  that  meanness  and  vile- 
ness,  sin  and  ruin  should  be  strong  and  prevail,  and  gain 
victory  upon  victory,  and  spread  curse  beyond  curse,  and 
draw  their  dark  trail  over  the  bright  eternity  of  ages ! 

No,  in  the  order  of  things,  this  cannot  be.  Grant  that 
there  are  evils,  difficulties,  obstacles  in  the  way.  But  in 
the  order  of  things,  principles  do  not  give  way  before 
temporary  disturbances.  Law  does  not  yield  to  confusion. 
Gravitation  binds  the  earth,  notwithstanding  all  the  tur- 
moil upon  its  bosom.  Light  prevails  over  darkness,  though 
cloud  and  storm  and  night  interrupt  its  course.  The  moral 
turmoil  upon  earth's  bosom,  war  and  outbreak  and  wide- 
spread disaster,  the  cloud  and  storm  and  darkness  of  human 
passions  and  vices,  the  bitter  struggles  and  sorrows  of 
humanity,  the  dark  shadows  of  earthly  strife  and  pain  and 
sin,  are  yet  to  give  place  to  immutable  law,  to  all-conquer- 
ing might  and  right,  to  everlasting  day. 

I  am  as  sure  of  it,  as  I  am  of  the  being  of  God  —  as 
I  am  of  my  own  being.  The  principles  of  progress  are 
laid  in  human  nature.  If  man  did  not  care  for  himself,  I 
should  have  no  hope  of  him.  If  he  could  not  go  out  from 
himself,  and  find  therein  his  improvement,  virtue  and  hap- 
piness, I  should  have  no  hope  of  him.  But  these  two 
principles  yoked  together,  in  the  Heaven-ordained  frame 
of  our  being,  will  draw  on  to  victory. 


THE   RELATION   OF   JESUS 


PRESENT    AGE. 


By  CHARLES  CARROLL  EVERETT. 


THE    DELATION    OF    JESUS 


PRESENT    AGE. 


'TPHE  writer  to  the  Hebrews  affirms  that  Jesus  Chnst 
-*•  is  "  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever."  Paul 
exclaims  to  the  Corinthians,  "Though  we  have  known 
Christ  after  the  flesh,  yet  now  henceforth  know  we  him  no 
more."  Christ  was  the  same ;  yet  before  the  generation 
that  he  left  upon  the  earth  had  passed  away  his  relation  to 
the  earth  had  changed.  Thus  does  the  work  of  Christ 
«hape  itself  afresh  to  meet  the  needs  of  eveiy  generation. 
Compare  together  the  Christ  of  the  first  century,  the 
Christ  of  the  thirteenth,  the  Christ  of  the  sixteenth,  and 
the  Christ  of  the  nineteenth  centuries,  and  you  would 
hardly  think  they  all  represent  the  same  personality. 
Christ  is  always  the  same.  His  work  is  always  substan- 
tially the  same ;  but  because  the  ages  change,  the  method 
of  this  work  changes.  The  same  needs  always  exist  in  the 
heart  of  humanity,  but  in  diflerent  ages  these  needs  mani- 
fest themselves  in  different  ways,  and  are  to  be  met  by 
different  instrumentalities.  And,  further,  it  is  not  merely 
because  the  needs  of  humanity  continually  change  their 
aspect  that  the  work  of  Christ  is  ever  changing.  No  age 
is  a  recipient  alone.    There  is  no  action  without  reaction. 

6* 


130  THE   RELATION   OF  JESUS 

Each  age  contributes  something  to  the  work  of  Christ.  It 
adds  new  forces,  new  methods,  new  machinery.  Its  spirit, 
and  by  this  I  mean  its  real,  vital,  energizing  spirit,  becomes 
united  with  the  spirit  of  Christ,  as  it  is  present  and  active 
in  the  world. 

In  considering  the  relation  of  Christ  to  the  present  age, 
we  have  then  to  consider  it  under  two  aspects.  We  have 
to  consider  each  as  a  giver,  and  each  as  a  receiver.  We 
may  help  to  make  this  double  relation  clear  by  sapng  that 
Christ  is  present  to  this  nineteenth  century  at  once  as  a 
problem  and  as  a  power.  No  questions  have  stirred  more 
deeply  the  heart  of  the  age  than  those  which  have  to  do 
with  the  person  and  the  office  of  Christ.  The  answers  to 
these  questions  shape  the  aspect  in  which  he  stands  to  the 
age,  and  become  therefore  parts  and  elements  of  the  power 
by  which  he  acts  upon  the  world.  But  this  statement  does 
not  exhaust  the  twofold  relation  of  which  I  speak.  That 
which  the  age  gives  to  Christ  is  not  merely  its  thought 
about  him.  The  secular  thought  and  life  of  the  age  bring 
their  contribution,  they  are  themselves  a  contribution  to 
him.  They  furnish  one  part  of  that  complete  organism 
of  which  Christ  furnishes  the  other.  If  the  age,  in  any 
fundamental  forms  of  its  thought  and  life,  seems  to  stand 
in  opposition  to  Christ,  this  apparent  opposition  is  only 
the  antithesis  of  elements  which  belong  together.  If  what 
we  call  the  spirit  of  the  age  seems,  in  any  respect,  to  stand 
in  opposition  to  the  spirit  of  Christ,  this  only  shows  the 
need  that  each  has  of  the  other.  The  spirit  of  this  nine- 
teenth century  needs  the  spirit  of  Christ,  and  the  spirit  of 
Christ  needs  the  spirit  of  this  nineteenth  century.  It  is 
not  then  merely  that  the  thought  of  the  age  clears  away 
something  of  the  obscurity  and  the  misconception  that 


TO    THE   PRESENT   AGE.  131 

have  gathered  about  the  person  and  the  work  of  Christ. 
If  all  he  said  and  did  were  as  truly  comprehended  now  as 
they  could  have  been  at  the  first,  no  less  real,  no  less  im- 
portant, would  be  the  offering  which  this  age  would  bring 
to  him.  Neither  does  the  fact,  that  the  work  of  Christ 
needs  the  work,  and  that  his  spirit  needs  the  spirit,  of  the 
century  in  which  we  live,  necessarily  imply  any  imperfec- 
tion in  his  original  work,  or  any  thing  originally  lacking 
in  his  spirit.  The  question  as  to  what  he  had  in  reserve, 
as  to  the  limit,  or  the  lack  of  limit,  of  his  insight  and  com- 
prehension, is  one  that  I  do  not  need,  and  do  not  intend 
here  to  raise.  There  is  a  kind  of  work  that  cannot  be 
done  all  at  once.  There  is  a  fulness  of  spirit  that  cannot 
manifest  itself  all  at  once.  It  is  sufficient  to  know  that 
Christ  recognized  this  fact  as  well  as  we  can.  He  affirmed 
it  as  clearly  and  as  confidently  as  it  is  possible  for  us  to 
do.  "  I  have,"  he  said  to  his  disciples,  "  yet  many  things 
to  say  unto  you,  but  ye  cannot  bear  them  now.  Howbeit, 
when  he,  the  Spirit  of  truth,  is  come,  he  shall  lead  you  into 
all  truth."  All,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  that  it  was  possible 
for  any  spirit  to  do  at  one  moment,  Christ  did.  He  infused 
into  the  world  a  spirit  of  love  and  faith  and  consecration, 
a  principle  of  enthusiasm  for  humanity.  He  added  to 
these  the  vitalizing  power  that  came  from  his  personality. 
This  he  did,  and  with  this  he  was  forced  to  be  content. 
He  told  us  the  nature  of  his  work,  and  foretold  to  us  its 
history.  It  was  to  bo  as  a  little  leaven  which  a  woman 
hideth  in  a  measure  of  meal  till  the  whole  is  leavened. 
He  hid  in  the  world  the  leaven  of  his  tnith.  That  was  all 
that  he  could  do.  It  is  for  us  to  witness,  and  to  contribute 
to,  the  completion  of  his  work. 

In  considering  the  theme  before  us,  I  shall  speak,  first. 


1S2  777^   RELATION   OF  JESUS 

of  the  external  history  of  Christ,  next  of  his  teaching,  and 
finally  of  his  personality,  in  their  relation  to  the  present  age. 

In  considering  the  relation  of  Christ  to  the  present  age, 
we  are  met,  then,  first  by  the  most  external  form  of  this 
relation.  The  external  history  of  Christ,  the  very  frame- 
work of  many  of  his  highest  and  purest  teachings,  contains 
elements  that  are  utterly  oj^posed  to  the  habits  of  though^ 
which  are  most  peculiar  to  the  present  century.  I  refer 
to  whatever  in  the  history  of  Christ  implies  the  exercise 
of  any  miraculous  power  l)y  him. 

The  idea  of  a  miracle  is  opposed  to  the  fundamental 
axioms  of  the  popular  thought  of  the  present.  The 
writers  who  best  represent  this  thought  do  not  hold  it 
necessary  to  disprove  the  fact  of  miracles.  They  simply 
afiirm,  with  Strauss,  that  the  time  is  past  when  a  miracle 
can  be  believed.  On  the  other  hand,  the  miraculous  is 
inextricably  intertwined  with  the  history  of  Christ.  We 
find  miracles  recognized,  not  merely  in  records  the  genu- 
ineness of  which  has,  with  or  without  reason,  been  su*- 
pocted.  In  Epistles  of  Paul,  the  genuineness  of  which 
no  critic  of  repute  has  ever  dreamed  of  assailing,  the 
miraculous  element  is  recognized  as  distinctly  as  in  the 
Gospels.  We  have  at  least  the  testimony  of  Paul  —  one 
of  the  grandest  souls  that  ever  lived,  a  man  whom  we 
know  and  honor  as  we  know  and  honor  few  —  that  he 
believed  himself  to  have  wrought  miracles,  and  that  he  be^ 
lieved  the  other  apostles  had  done  and  were  in  the  habit 
of  doing  the  same.  And  we  further  have  his  testimony, 
with  that  of  others  indorsed  by  him,  in  regard  to  the 
most  important  of  the  miracles  of  Jesus;  namely,  the 
manifestation  by  Jesus  of  himself  to  his  disciples  after 
his  death. 


TO    THE   PRESENT  AGE.  133 

Here  is  a  collision  between  the  form  of  the  external 
manifestation  of  Christ  and  the  spirit  of  the  age.  The 
age  itself  has  given  such  prominence  to  this  that  we 
cannot  overlook  it.  The  idea  of  miracle  is  so  foreign 
to  the  spirit  of  the  age  that  it  has  a  fascination  for  it.  It 
has  less  importance  than  any  thing  else  in  the  history  of 
Jesus,  and  yet  nothing  has  more  occupied  the  thoughts 
of  the  thinkers  of  the  present  generation. 

For  the  reasons  already  stated,  we  must  concede  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  right  to  both  sides  of  the  great  controversy. 
If  we  cannot  eliminate  the  miraculous  from  the  history 
of  Jesus,  neither  can  we,  nor  would  we  if  we  could,  elimi- 
nate from  the  spiiit  of  the  age  that  element  which  finds 
it  hard  to  accept  a  miracle.  The  very  antagonism  be- 
tween the  two,  the  right  which  each  maintains  being 
granted,  shows  the  need  that  each  has  of  the  other. 
Each  has  a  contribution  for  the  other  which  could  be 
received  from  no   other  source. 

In  the  first  j)lace,  the  absolute  incredulity  with  which 
the  most  thorough  representatives  of  the  thought  of  the 
time  receive  any  story  of  the  miraculous  shows  that  now, 
for  the  first  time,  a  miracle  is  seen  to  be  in  the  truest  sense 
of  the  word  a  miracle.  To  the  child  or  the  savage  a 
miracle  is  hardly  possible.  Either  every  thing  is  a  mira- 
cle or  nothing  is.  It  is  only  as  the  absoluteness  of  law 
is  recognized  that  a  miracle,  which  is  in  appearance  a 
violation  of  this  law,  be^ns  to  produce  its  full  impression. 
The  present  age  has  placed  behind  miracle  a  mighty  back- 
ground of  law.  From  out  this  does  miracle  first  stand 
forth  in  its  true  nature,  as  something  demanding  yet  defy- 
ing credence.  Those  who  blame  the  spirit  of  the  age  for 
lack  of  faith  in  this  direction  should  at  least  give  it  credit 


134  THE   RELATION   OF  JESUS 

for  this  immense  contribution  to  the  idea  of  miracle,  by 
Avhich,  for  the  first  time,  a  miracle  stands  forth  absolutely 
in  its  true  nature. 

Not  only  does  the  spirit  of  the  age  thus  funiish  to 
miracles  the  background  that  they  need :  it  furnishes  to 
them  also  a  content.  The  thought  of  law  does  not  stop 
with  the  background  of  laws  of  which  I  spoke.  Laws 
may  be  finite :  law  is  infinite.  The  miracle  sets  at  defiance 
the  great  background  of  recognized  laws ;  but  itself  can 
be  only  the  manifestation  of  some  higher,  grander,  more 
comprehensive  law.  Thus  does  a  miracle  more  truly  than 
ever  before  come  as  a  real  revelation.  For  the  first  time 
it  has  its  full  and  logical  meaning.  It  was  before  expected 
to  prove  something  which  ft-om  the  nature  of  the  case  it 
could  not  prove.  No  miracle,  however  stupendous,  can 
prove  the  truth  of  a  principle  in  morals.  It  can  show, 
indeed,  some  superiority,  in  some  respect,  in  him  who 
works  the  miracle ;  but  this  superiority  may  not  be  of  a 
nature  to  demand  implicit  confidence  towards  the  person 
in  all  respects.  It  may  be  like  the  superiority  of  the 
European  over  the  ignorant  savage.  The  missionary  may 
win  the  trust  of  the  simple  barbarian  by  sending  a  mes- 
sage written  upon  a  chip;  but  the  sailor,  bringing  the 
seeds  of  all  the  vices  of  civilization,  can  "  make  the  chip 
speak "  as  well  as  the  missionary.  But  when  the  miracle 
testifies  of  the  comprehensive  law  which  it  manifests,  then 
first  does  it  have  a  meaning  which  cannot  be  wrested  out 
of  it.  Nay,  then  first  does  it  become  really  sublime.  Be- 
fore, it  was  a  single  meteor  flashing  in  short-lived  bright- 
ness across  the  sky.  Now,  it  is  the  first  manifestation  of 
a  vast  system  of  worlds  of  which  we  had  not  dreamed. 
Such   is  the  contribution   which   the  spirit  of  the  age, 


^  TO    THE   PRESENT  AGE.  135 

through  the  very  antagonism  of  which  I  spoke,  makes  to 
the  miracles  which  constitute  so  much  of  the  external 
form  in  which  Christ  meets  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  miracle  brings  a  no  less  important 
contribution  to  the  spirit  of  the  age.  This  spirit  tends,  not 
only  to  look  upon  law  as  absolute,  but  to  look  upon  the 
system  of  laws  which  it  has  discovered  as  final.  These 
laws  tend  continually  to  become  narrow  and  hard.  They 
tend  to  become  merely  a  system  of  physical  forces.  There 
is  danger  that  the  spirit  may  become  shut  up  within 
these  physical  laws  as  in  a  prison-house.  The  miracle 
demonstrates  to  the  senses  that  these  physical  laws  are 
not  absolute,  even  in  their  own  realm ;  that  these  physical 
forces  are  encompassed  and  interpenetrated  by  spiritual 
forces  ;  that  matter  is  at  the  last  subordinate  to  spirit.  It 
may  not  reveal  the  nature  of  these  spiritual  forces ;  but  it 
does  reveal  their  presence.  All  do  not  need  this  demon- 
stration. The  same  truth  may  be  reached  in  other  ways. 
The  laws  of  thought  reveal  it.  The  spiritual  conscious- 
ness may  be  sufficient  unto  itself.  Christ  himself  regarded 
his  miracles  as  of  comparatively  small  account.  He  wrought 
them  because  he  was  moved  to  use  whatever  power  he 
had  to  bless  mankind.  If  he  healed  the  sick,  it  was 
because  he  loved  to  heal  them.  He  sympathized  with 
sorrow  and  suffering,  and,  so  far  as  he  could,  would 
remove  their  cause.  But  the  miracles  carry,  as  we  have 
seen,  their  own  revelation  with  them;  and  they  have 
their  place,  however  lowly,  in  regard  even  to  the  spiritual 
consciousness.  The  albatross,  we  are  told,  with  all  its 
magnificent  sweep  of  wing,  cannot  lift  itself  from  the 
flat  surface  of  the  deck  on  which  it  may  be  lying.  Just 
because  its  wings  are  so  strong  and  large,  it  needp  to  bo 


136  TUE   RELATION   OF  JESUS 

lifled  a  little,  that  they  may  have  space  to  move,  that 
they  may  have  freedom  to  smite  the  air.  When  this 
freedom  has  been  given  it,  then  it  mounts  upward,  sus- 
tained by  its  own  inherent  strength.  So  is  it,  sometimes 
with  the  spirit.  It  has  strength  of  its  own.  It  has  a 
Belf-sustaining  power.  But  it  sometimes  needs  to  be  lifted 
a  little  way  above  the  dead  level  of  its  daily  life,  above 
the  plane  of  physical  relations,  before  its  wings  find 
strength  and  freedom  to  beat  the  air.  Then,  leaving  its 
temporary  support  behind  it,  it  mounts  in  glad  flight 
heavenward.  Such  help  many  have  found,  and  may  yet 
find,  in  the  miracles  of  Jesus.  The  miracle  may  lift  the 
level  surface  of  life  as  if  into  a  wave,  from  the  crest  of 
which  the  spirit  may  start  upon  its  flight. 

From  the  external  manifestation  of  the  history  of  Christ, 
and  the  external  relations  in  which  through  this  he  stands 
to  the  present  age,  we  pass  to  the  inner  power  of  this  life. 
Within  these  external  manifestations  we  find  his  teach- 
ings. We  have,  then,  next  to  consider  the  relation  in 
which  Christ  stands  to  the  present  age  as  a  teacher.  Wo 
shall  find  here  the  same  tw^ofold  relation  which  we  h:ive 
found  before ;  and  the  external  may  thus  stand  as  a  type 
and  illustration  of  the  internal.  We  will  first  consider, 
under  this  aspect,  the  basis  and  form  of  the  teaching  of 
Christ,  and  next  its  substance. 

The  spirit  of  the  age  is  truth-seeking.  We  speak  often 
of  the  eagerness  for  wealth  that  marks  the  age.  I  think 
that  when,  fi-om  the  distant  future,  men  shall  look  back 
upon  this  period  of  the  ^v orld's  history,  the  search  for  wealth 
will  not  be  seen  to  fill  the  place  that  to  us  it  seems  to  oc- 
cupy. The  age  will  be  seen  to  be  animated  by  a  nobler 
quest  than  this.     The  search  for  truth  will  be  seen  to  be 


TO    TEE   PRESENT  AGE.  137 

the  quest  by  which  it  is  marked  most  really.  We  speak 
of  the  corruption  of  the  age,  of  the  trickeries  of  trade,  of 
the  unscrupulousness  of  speculation,  of  the  pretence  and 
display  of  fashion,  of  the  venality  of  politics.  All  this  is 
true.  These  things  deserve  the  denunciation  of  the 
moralist  and  the  preacher.  But  behind  all  this  is  the  life 
which  truly  marks  the  age.  It  is  the  life  of  patient,  earnest, 
honest  search  for  truth.  I  believe  that  never  and  nowhere 
has  there  been  manifested,  to  so  gi*eat  extent,  such  con- 
scientious and  self-forgetful  love  of  truth  for  its  own  sake  as 
may  be  found  in  the  scientific  investigations  of  the  present 
day.  Such  accuracy  of  research,  such  microscopic  delicacy 
of  measurement,  such  patient  and  unprejudiced  examina- 
tion, I  beUeve  to  be  unequalled  in  the  history  of  man.  This 
proves  that,  in  spite  of  the  frauds  and  falseness  of  which 
I  spoke,  the  age  is  really  sound  at  heart.  Theologians 
sometimes  speak  of  the  flippancy  and  conceit  of  the  science 
of  the  day.  The  terms  would  be  more  true  applied  in  the 
opposite  direction.  Theology  is  more  open  to  such  charges 
than  science.  A  love  of  truth  that  would  fling  away  even 
the  highest  glory  of  the  earth  and  the  hope  of  heaven,  if 
so  be  truth  may  stand  pure  and  perfect,  has  something 
sublime  about  it.  Well  might  the  theologian  take  a 
lesson  from  the  man  of  science  in  regard  to  this  conse- 
cration to  truth.  For  theology,  with  its  presumption,  its 
prejudice,  its  pretence,  its  glossing  over  of  difficulties,  its 
leaning  upon  authority  which  it  feels  at  heart  is  not  au- 
thority, its  saying  what  it  does  not  exactly  believe,  that 
it  may  not  contradict  those  who  perhaps  do  not  believe 
exactly  what  they  say,  may  well  stand  ashamed  in  the 
presence  of  the  science  of  the  day  that  has  left  all  to  fol- 
low truth.    Theology  should  give  to  srience  not  tolerance, 


138  THE   RELATION   OF  JESUS 

not  patronage,  but  reverence.  While  it  utters  fearlessly 
the  truth  that  is  given  it  to  speak,  it  should  in  its  turn  seat 
itself  as  a  learner  at  the  feet  of  science,  and  seek  not  only 
to  gather  the  facts  which  it  has  to  teach,  but  to  catch 
something  of  its  spirit,  the  spirit  that  loves  truth,  and 
that  will  suffer  nothing  to  take  the  place  of  this. 

But  Christ  was  not  a  truth-seeker.  It  does  not  appear 
that  he  ever  doubted  or  questioned.  Pilate  asked  tlie 
question.  What  is  truth  ?  It  does  not  appear  that  Jesus 
ever  did.  Jesus  came  not  to  seek  the  truth,  but  to  an- 
nounce it.  "To  this  end,"  he  cried,  "was  I  born,  and 
for  this  cause  came  I  into  the  world,  that  I  should  bear 
witness  unto  the  truth."  He  came  to  bear  witness  unto 
the  truth,  but  it  was  truth  that  came  to  him  without  his 
seeking.  Neither  does  it  appear  that  Christ  loved  truth 
above  all  things.  To  the  Jesuit  there  is  something  better 
than  truth,  and  to  this  he  will  sacrifice  truth  itself.  I  as- 
sert nothing  like  this  in  regard  to  Christ.  Truth  was  to 
him  fundamental  and  essential.  He  would  not  accept  or 
tolerate  what  was  false.  But  still  to  know  was  not  the 
great  object  of  his  life.  There  was  something  better  to 
him  than  truth ;  namely,  life.  He  would  rather  be  than 
know.  At  his  touch  truth  sprang  into  life.  If  he  came  to 
bear  witness  to  the  truth,  this  was  only  a  step  in  his 
grander  work,  the  work  which  he  proclaimed  at  the  very 
beginning  of  his  mission,  when  he  cried,  "  I  am  come  that 
they  might  have  life,  and  that  they  might  have  it  more 
.abundantly."  And,  further,  Christ  did  not  merely  teach 
life  through  truth  :  he  taught  truth  through  life.  "  If  any 
man,"  he  said,  "  will  do  his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doc- 
trine." And  John  was  full  of  the  spirit  of  his  Master 
when  he  cried,  "  The  life  is  the  light  of  men." 


TO    THE   PRESENT  AGE,  139 

We  see  more  clearly  the  antithesis  between  Christ  as  a 
teacher  on  the  one  side,  and  the  present  age  on  the  other, 
in  this  fact :  viz^  that  Christ  speaks  with  authonty  to  an 
age  which  rejects  authority.  The  cry  of  the  age,  in  the 
world  of  the  intellect  as  well  as  in  that  of  politics,  is  for 
liberty.  But  to  this  age,  as  to  every  age,  Christ  comes  as 
a  master.  "  My  yoke,"  he  says,  "  is  easy ; "  but  it  is  a  yoke 
none  the  less. 

If  the  relation  of  Christ  to  his  truth  is  so  different  from 
that  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  to  its  truth,  it  must  follow  tliat 
the  two  forms  of  truth  rest  on  different  bases.  The  facul^ 
ties  by  which  the  age  seeks  truth  must  be  different  from 
those  through  which  the  truth  came  unsought  to  Jesus. 
This  age  seeks  truth  by  the  discriminating  and  investigat- 
ing power  of  the  understanding.  Truth  came  to  Jesui 
through  the  intuitions  of  the  soul.  In  him  the  moral  and 
spiritual  faculties  were  full  of  strength.  He  lived  as 
naturally  in  the  world  of  spiritual  realities  as  other  men 
live  in  the  world  of  physical  realities.  As  we  need  only 
open  our  eyes  and  see,  so  his  spirit  had  only  to  open  its 
eyes  and  it  saw.  As  the  voices  of  the  outward  world 
come  to  us  without  our  listening  for  them,  so  the  voice  of 
God  came  to  him  whether  he  would  or  no.  And  this  waa 
the  ground  of  the  authority  with  which  he  spoke.  Who- 
ever speaks  from  the  moral  and  spiiitual  consciousness 
to  the  moral  and  spiritual  consciousness  may  and  must 
speak  with  authority.  We  may  illustrate  this  by  an 
extreme  case.  When  a  man  is  lurking  for  the  commis- 
sion of  some  crime,  or  after  he  has  committed  it,  he 
feels  the  mastery  of  all  innocent  things.  The  rustle  of  a 
leaf  may  excite  his  dread.  To  a  voice  denouncing  his 
crime,  or  crime  like  his,  he  listens  as  to  the  voice  of  God. 


140  THE  RELATION  OF  JESUS 

This  recognition  of  the  mastery  of  a  higher  degree  of  life 
after  its  own  kind  is  felt  at  eveiy  stage  of  moral  and  spirifc- 
ual  development.  If  the  soul  be  comparatively  guilty,  it 
recognizes  this  mastery  with  dread.  If  it  be  comparatively 
innocent,  it  recognizes  it  with  joy.  Such  was  the  author- 
ity with  which  Jesus  spoke.  Though  he  spoke  with  au- 
thority, what  he  said  did  not  rest  on  this  authority.  It 
was  the  authority  with  which  the  awakened  calls  to  the 
sleeper,  bidding  him  awake,  for  the  world  is  bright  with 
the  morning.  The  voice  penetrates  to  the  obscured  con- 
sciousness of  the  sleeper.  He  stirs  himself,  he  opens  his 
eyes,  and  rejoices  for  himself  in  the  morning  brightness. 
So  Christ  called  to  a  sleeping  world.  Nay,  he  called  to 
those  who  were  dead  in  trespasses  and  sin,  and  they  that 
were  dead  heard  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  Man  and  lived. 

If  the  truth  taught  by  Jesus  and  the  truth  that  is  sought 
by  the  present  age  rest  on  such  different  bases,  they  must 
be,  we  should  suppose,  in  some  respects  different  each 
from  the  other.  But,  if  each  be  tnith,  they  must  be  the 
complements  each  of  the  other.  And,  if  they  are  the 
complements  each  of  the  other,  they  must  need  one  an- 
other. Each  must  be  imperfect  without  the  other.  Each 
must  find  a  certain  confinnation  and  support  from  the 
other,  and  each  must  complete  for  the  other  the  circle  of 
truth.  We  are  thus  led  to  look  at  some  points  in  the 
teaching  of  Christ,  and  to  see  how  these  complete  and 
are  completed  by  the  truth  which  the  present  age  seeks 
and  finds. 

In  the  first  place,  Christ  teaches  us  of  the  loving  provi- 
dence of  God.  He  awakens  in  our  hearts  all  childlike 
instincts  of  trust  and  confidence.  He  tells  us  that  God 
is  our  fother,  that  his  love  watches  over  all  his  children, 


TO    THE   PRESENT  AGE.  141 

that  it  follows  the  prodigal  in  his  wandering  and  greets 
him  on  his  return,  that  even  a  sparrow  does  not  fall  to 
the  earth  without  it.  This  teaching  is  sufficient  for  the 
spiritual  necessities  of  our  nature.  The  spirit  that  has 
adopted  these  principles  into  itself  will  live  a  strong  and 
blessed  life.  They  have  been  the  inspiration  of  the  centu- 
ries ever  since  Christ  uttered  them.  They  contain  all 
that  could  be  told  of  God  in  the  age  when  Jesus  lived. 
But  they  do  not  exhaust  the  truth  of  God.  They  leave 
space  for  misconception.  Love  may  be  universal,  and  yet 
be  not  without  caprice.  Providence  may  watch  over  all, 
and  yet  in  every  case  be  only  a  special  providence.  God 
may  watch  over  every  individual  of  the  race,  but  over 
each  merely  as  an  individual.  If  there  may  be  the  ca- 
prices of  love,  then  it  is  not  a  long  step  to  the  possibility 
of  caprices  which  spring  from  the  lack  of  love.  Love 
may  alternate  with  hate.  If  each  individual  be  dealt  with 
singly,  as  though  he  existed  by  himself,  the  step  is  not  a 
long  one  to  the  thought  of  discrimination  between  indi- 
viduals. The  caprices  of  love  may  become  favoritism, 
and  the  special  favor  shown  to  one  implies  the  neglect  of 
another.  All  these  things  are  foreign  from  the  spirit  and 
the  teaching  of  Christ.  They  contradict  the  fundamental 
principles  of  his  teaching.  And  yet,  men's  habits  of 
thought  being  such  as  they  were,  the  teaching  of  Christ 
could  not  be  absolutely  fortified  against  them.  He  told 
men  that  the  love  of  God  was  like  the  sunshine  that  visits 
all  alike,  but  the  words  passed  through  their  ears  unheeded. 
Thus  Christianity  all  along  has  been  corrupted  by  mis- 
representations of  its  truth  in  which  the  thought  of  love 
had  suggested  caprice,  and  the  thought  of  special  love 
and  special   providence  had  suggested   the   thought  of 


142  THE  RELATION   OF  JESUS 

favoritism,  and  favoritism  had  suggested  discrimination 
and  neglect.  All  men  were  seen  to  stand  in  the  presence 
of  God  as  individuals,  which  is  true ;  and  merely  as  indi^ 
viduals,  which  is  false. 

The  truth  that  God  is  love  needs  to  be  supplemented 
by  another  truth;  namely  this,  that  God  is  Law.  The 
great  truth  of  the  absoluteness  of  law  cannot  be  taught  in 
a  single  lesson.  No  man  can  tell  it  to  another.  It  must 
be  demonstrated  to  be  believed.  It  must  be  shown  in 
its  myriad  and  unvarying  applications  to  all  forms  of  being 
before  it  can  be  felt  as  a  reality.  One  must  see  for  one's 
self  the  grand  march  of  the  order  of  the  universe,  the 
unfailing  sequence  of  cause  and  effect,  the  mathematical 
exactness  of  the  correlation  of  all  the  forces  of  the  world, 
before  one  can  have  a  sense  of  the  truth  which  lies  at  the 
basis  and  forms  the  culmination  of  scientific  thought  to- 
day. This  truth  has  not  been  reached  suddenly.  The 
ages  haVe  been  groping  after  it.  This  age  has  reached, 
by  slow  and  patient  thought,  a  comprehension  of  this 
truth  which  is  its  inspiration.  The  ages  to  come  will 
only  add  to  it  new  illustrations  as  they  follow  its  mighty 
sweep.  This  truth  is  what  seems  at  times  to  put  this  agje 
into  antagonism  with  the  spirit  of  Christ.  It  is  really  the 
offering  which  the  thought  of  the  age  brings  to  Christ. 
The  teaching  of  Christ  needs,  as  we  have  seen,  this  truth 
as  its  complement.  The  antithesis  between  the  two 
shows  the  intimate  relationship  between  them.  When 
we  bring  the  two  together  in  one  thought,  we  have  the 
most  sublime  conception  that  ever  dawned  upon  the  mind 
of  man.  The  truth  oi^  Christ  finds  a  body:  the  truth  of 
the  age  finds  a  soul.  On  the  one  side,  all  possibility 
of  caprice  \&  driven  from  our  thought  of  God.    The  love 


TO    THE   PRESENT  AGE,  143 

of  God,  as  strong  and  tender  as  the  lips  of  Jesus  could 
describe  it,  is  seen  to  be  as  regular  and  as  calm  as  the 
movements  of  the  heavens.  This  truth  only  adds  to  the 
strength  and  the  clearness  of  our  thouglit  of  the  love  of 
God.  We  see  demonstrated  before  us  how  his  care  pur- 
sues all  things,  how  not  a  sparrow  falls  to  the  earth  unfol- 
lowed  by  this  watchful  providence,  how  every  grain  of  dust 
that  floats  in  the  summer  sun  has  its  place  and  work  in 
the  great  whole,  not  a  single  mote  forgotten.  We  learn  in 
'what  direction  to  look  for  the  action  and  succor  of  this 
providence.  We  do  not  look  for  it  to  come  to  us  in 
weakness,  but  in  strength.  We  see  that  this  perfect  order 
is  the  truest  providence,  that  the  care  of  each  is  most 
perfect  that  recognizes  each  in  its  relations  to  all  the  rest. 
So  soon  as  we  recognize  the  divinity  of  law  and  the  lovo 
that  is  enshrined  in  it,  we  feel  the  omnipresent  might  of 
this  divinity,  the  omnipotence  of  this  love.  The  restlessness 
and  passion  of  our  hearts  are  stilled.  Trust  in  God  takes 
on  the  peace  and  the  calmness  of  the  heavens.  Such  is 
the  offering  which  the  age  brings  to  Christ.  It  brings  a 
body  in  which  his  spirit  may  incarnate  itself  afresh. 

The  result  of  the  union  of  the  thought  of  the  age  with 
the  thought  of  Christ  may  be  seen  in  all  the  relations  in 
which  the  soul  stands  to  God.  Christ  bade  his  followers 
preach  his  gospel  to  every  creature.  The  age  has  taught 
ns  the  necessity  of  educating  and  civilizing  the  barbarian, 
if  we  would  christianize  him.  Christ  taught  us  to  love  the 
sinner  while  hating  sin.  This  has  seemed  to  some  para- 
doxical ;  but  the  age  has  removed  some  of  the  difficulty  by 
showing  how  much  of  what  we  call  character  is  the  result 
of  inherited  tendencies  and  outward  circumstances.  Jesus 
taught  the  doctrine  of  immortality.    Men  have  tended  to 


144  THE   RELATION   OF  JESUS 

look  upon  the  future  life  as  something  standing  over 
against  the  present.  The  age  teaches  us  that  such  a  break 
in  life  is  impossible,  that  if  there  be  an  immortality  it  must 
lie  hidden  in  the  present.  It  teaches,  too,  that  the  judg- 
ments of  God,  if  there  be  a  God,  are  never  arbitrary.  He 
does  not  hold  blessing  in  one  hand  and  cursing  in  another, 
and  give  each,  by  an  outward  bestowjil,  as  he  may  see  that 
it  is  desei-ved.  Men's  acts  drag  their  consequences  after 
them.  Thus  the  old  Scripture  phrases  are  just  coming  to 
their  meaning.  It  is  not  an  angry  God  that  pursues  the 
sinner:  it  is  his  own  sin  that  has  found  him  out.  Men  do 
reap  the  fruit  of  their  own  sowing.  There  is  no  scientifio 
truth  of  the  day  that  stands  in  any  stronger  antagonism  to 
the  truth  of  Christ  than  is  implied  in  such  ixntitheses  as 
have  been  referred  to.  Even  the  theories  of  development, 
so  rife  at  present,  do  not  stand  in  the  way  of  Christ. 
Christ  looks  not  downward  but  upward,  not  backward  but 
forward.  Such  theories,  if  established,  would  only  show 
the  piVfgressive  power  of  spirit,  the  omnipotence  of  life. 

But  if  the  thought  of  Jesus  needs  that  of  the  present 
age,  still  more  does  the  thought  of  the  age  need  that  of 
Jesus.  If  the  spirit  needs  a  body,  still  more  does  the  bo«  ly 
need  a  spirit.  The  laws,  the  forces  on  which  the  thouf,ht 
of  the  age  dwells,  until  this  divineness  is  added  to  tbera 
are  hard  and  cold.  The  body,  which  could  carry  on  all 
the  functions  of  its  life,  yet  without  life,  would  be  a 
machine,  perfect  indeed  and  wonderful,  but  a  machine 
none  the  less.  The  thought  of  the  age,  taken  by  itself 
uninsph-ed  by  Christian  truth,  tends  to  drag  down  the 
soul,  to  imprison  it  in  mere  mechanism,  to  take  from  it  its 
divine  inspiration ;  and  while  we  need  the  thought  of  the 
present  age  to  illustrate  to  us  the  methods  of  God's  deal- 


TO    THE  PRESENT  AGE.  145 

mgs  with  tlie  soul,  none  the  less  does  the  thought  of  the 
age  need  the  knowledge  that  there  is  a  soul.  Among  all 
the  forces  of  the  universe,  the  power  of  the  soul,  the  cul- 
mination of  them  all,  is  apt  to  be  lost  sight  of.  The 
thought  of  the  age  tends  to  look  upon  things  from  with- 
out, and  to  lose  that  which  is  their  essence.  It  needs  the 
voice  that  shall  awaken  its  own  inner  life,  and  thus  bring 
it  to  a  consciousness  of  the  life  that  lies  at  the  heart  of  all 
things. 

Thus  we  see  how  the  thought  of  Christ  and  the  thought 
of  the  age  need  and  complement  each  other.  The  thought 
of  Christ  is  spiritual,  the  thought  of  the  age  tends  to 
become  material.  In  this  world  we  are  neither  wholly 
spiritual  nor  wholly  material.  And  we  must  bear  in  mind 
that  the  two  elements  should  not  exist  over  against  one 
another  in  our  thought.  We  must  not  hold  the  two  con- 
ceptions, however  opposite  they  may  appear,  as  two.  In 
life  the  spirit  and  the  body  do  not  exist  as  two  but  as  one. 
As  soon  as  they  exist  as  two,  there  is  death.  So  must  the 
truth  of  Jesus  and  the  truth  of  this  present  age  be  blended 
in  one  thought.  We  must  not  say  love  and  law,  but  lovo 
in  law.  We  must  not  see  the  divine  power  setting  at 
work  forces  that  by  their  natural  operation  shall  reward 
or  punish  the  spirit.  We  must  see  the  divine  power  work- 
ing in  and  through  these  forces.  Then,  as  science  makes 
us  feel  that  we  are  encompassed  by  law,  the  words  will 
not  need  translating  to  us ;  for  we  shall  feel  that  we  are 
encompassed  by  God. 

The  relation  which  we  have  found  to  exist  between  the 
intellectual  teaching  of  Christ  and  the  thought  of  the  age 
is  no  less  marked  between  the  moral  teaching  of  Christ 
and  the  life  of  the  age.    The  moral  teaching  of  Christ  is 

7 


146  THE  RELATION   OF  JESUS 

absolutely  true.  It  is  as  true  as  his  thought  of  God ;  yet 
like  that  it  needs  its  complemeutal  truth.  Further,  the 
moral  teaching  of  Christ  needs  instrumentalities.  Love, 
however  strong,  cannot  Work  without  means.  The  heart 
needs  the  hands  and  the  feet. 

In  both  of  these  respects  the  age  brings  its  offering  to 
Christ.  Christ  teaches  lore  and  self-sacrifice.  He  bids  us 
do  for  others  as  we  would  have  them  do  for  us.  He  bids 
us  give  to  him  that  asks,  and  lend  to  him  that  would  bor- 
row. These  principles  are  the  very  life  of  society.  They 
are  the  very  truth  of  God.  But  yet  these  principles  car- 
ried out,  without  explanation  and  qualification,  would  pro- 
duce harm  as  well  as  good.  The  church  of  every  age,  in 
striving  to  carry  out  these  precepts,  has  done  much  good ; 
but  it  has  done  much  harm  also.  It  has  done  good  by 
brincrinsj  succor  to  the  lives  that  needed  it.  It  has  done 
immeasurable  good  by  keeping  alive  on  the  earth  the 
spirit  of  Christian  love.  Men  have  been  blest  by  the  power 
of  the  spirit,  even  more  than  by  its  specific  acts  of  mercy. 
But,  while  it  has  relieved  the  poor,  it  has  too  often  tended 
to  perpetuate  poverty.  Indiscriminate  alms-giving,  mere 
alms-giving,  is  the  very  mother  of  pauperism.  We  see  in 
some  Catholic  countries  how  the  alms-giving  which  the 
church  has  taught  in  the  very  words  of  Christ  has  de- 
graded whole  populations,  has  taken  from  manhood  its 
real  dignity  and  strength.  We  need,  then,  not  only  the 
principle  of  love,  but  also  a  knowledge  of  all  social  laws. 
The  science  of  political  economy  must  be  understood ; 
but  this,  like  physical  science,  cannot  be  taught  in  a  day. 
Ages  must  teach  the  lesson.  The  present  age  has  only 
half  learned  it.  But  it  has  learned  enough  to  bring  a 
magnificent  contribution  to  Christ.     Christ  bids  us  help 


TO    THE  PRESENT  AGE.  147 

men :  the  age,  in  its  poor  blundering  way,  is  just  beginning 
to  tell  us  how  to  help  them.  It  teaches  that  the  best  way 
to  help  the  poor  is  to  strike  at  the  root  of  poverty.  No 
less  does  the  age  furnish  means  for  canying  out  the  prin- 
ciples of  Jesus.  It  brings  the  ends  of  the  earth  together. 
Christ  bids  us  love  our  neighbor.  This  age  has  made  those 
from  whom  the  sea  parts  us  our  neighbors.  There  is  famine, 
or  some  more  sudden  calamity,  on  the  other  side  of  our  con- 
tinent, or  in  a  foreign  land.  Christ  bids  us  help  those  who 
need.  How  shall  we  carry  sudden  help  unless  we  hear 
at  once  the  story  ?  How  shall  we  send  prompt  help  if 
there  be  no  strong  and  swift  messenger  waiting  at  our 
door  ?  But  now  the  lightning  tells  the  story  the  moment 
in  which  there  is  a  story  to  be  told,  and  the  unwearied 
steam  bears  our  gifts  as  soon  as  they  can  be  gathered. 
The  commands  of  Jesus  are  absolute.  The  power  of  the 
age  to  fulfil  these  commands  is  approaching  absoluteness. 
•Thus  does  the  age  add  to  the  teaching  of  Christ  the  com- 
pleteness that  it  needs. 

But  does  not  the  age  in  turn  need  this  teaching?  Ma- 
terialism and  mechanism  in  thought  are  bad  enough : 
they  are  worse  in  life.  The  life  of  the  age  has  a  tendency 
to  materialism  and  mechanism.  The  science  of  political 
economy  tends  to  become  a  hard  system  of  rules,  in 
which  the  spontaneous  sympathy  of  the  helper  and  the 
individuality  of  the  helped  are  lost  together.  The  eager- 
ness of  the  world  after  material  prospeiity  tends  to  a 
practical  absorption  in  these  ends.  Thus  we  have  the 
'greed,  the  excitement,  the  madness,  the  display,  the  cor- 
ruption that  to  so  great  an  extent  characterize  the  age. 
We  have  seen  that  there  is  a  deeper  life  beneath  this 
superficial  one ;  but  these  evils,  however  superficial,  need 


148  THE  RELATION   OF  JESUS 

prompt  and  coustant  care  lest  they  eat  into  the  very  heart. 
The  body  needs  the  spirit,  or  it  will  sink  into  decay. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  two  elements  which  we  are  con- 
sidering as  if  they  stood  simply  over  against  one  another. 
This  is  in  some  respects  true.  The  thought  and  life  of 
the  age  are,  indeed,  largely  indebted  to  the  stimulus  of 
Christianity;  but  they  are  not,  like  the  painting  and 
architecture  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  direct  outgrowth  of 
it.  The  science  of  the  present  day  is  self-developed  and 
self-sustained.  The  machinery  of  the  world  has  been 
invented  for  the  world's  uses.  Its  political  economy 
has  been  thought  out  to  facilitate  its  own  ends. 

But  though  the  two  elements,  to  some  extent,  stand  over 
against  one  another,  yet  each,  by  its  natural  development, 
is  approaching  the  other,  and  each  is  becoming  penetrated 
by  the  other.  On  the  one  side,  religion  is  catching  the 
spirit  of  the  age,  and  is  approaching  the  clearness  and 
accuracy  of  scientific  thought.  On  the  other  side,  science 
is  becoming  conscious  of  truth  which  is  unattainable  by 
its  methods,  and  which  is  to  it  therefore  the  unknowable. 
Already  does  Herbert  Spencer,  who  represents  the  fore- 
most thought  of  the  time,  feel  the  awe  of  this  mystery, 
and  see  gleaming  through  it  something  of  the  pres- 
ence of  the  infinite  love.  The  life  of  the  age,  also,  by 
bringing  men  near  to  one  another,  tends  to  produce 
the  sense  of  human  brotherhood.  Its  vast  business  enter- 
prise, in  some  of  its  aspects,  does  more  for  the  cause  of 
humanity  than  many  a  professed  charity.  Furtlier,  the 
age  is,  to  some  extent  at  least,  directly  inspired  by  Chris- 
tianity. Its  zeal  for  humanity,  its  sympathy  with  the 
oppressed  and  suffering  everywhere,  its  gigantic  and 
unparalleled  charities,  show  it  to  be  more  truly  Chris- 
tian than  any  age  that  has  preceded  it. 


TO    TEE   PRESENT  AGE.  149 

If  however,  in  spite  of  all  this,  we  are  sometimes 
tempted  to  douht  whether  the  power  of  the  truth  which 
Christ  represents  is  to  win  the  mastery,  or  whether  it  ia 
destined  to  be  lost  in  the  great  struggle,  we  must  remem- 
ber that  its  authority  is  that  of  elements  that  are  funda- 
mental in  human  nature.  The  spiritual  instincts  may  be 
repressed:  they  cannot  be  exterminated.  As  in  every 
little  creek  and  inlet  along  the  shore  the  water  answei*a 
to  the  call  of  the  ocean,  and  feels  the  might  of  the  out- 
going and 'the  incoming  tide,  so  in  human  life  deep  an- 
swers unto  deep. 

We  must  remember,  too,  that  Christ  is  not  a  mere 
teacher.  His  power  is  not  alone  that  of  the  truth  he 
utters.  It  is  na  mere  accident  of  history  that  the  higher 
truth  and  life  which  we  have  been  considering  confi-ont 
the  age  as  Christian  truth  and  life.  They  receive  a 
power  from  their  union  with  Christ  which  they  could  not 
have  received,  even  had  the  thought  of  men  attained  to 
them,  without  this.  We  have  looked  at  the  external  form 
of  his  hfe  and  at  his  teaching  in  their  relation  to  the  age. 
There  is  yet  another  step  to  take.  There  is  still  an  inner 
reality  to  be  unveiled.  Behind  the  power  of  his  teaching 
is  the  power  of  his  personality.  In  this  is  found  the 
climax  of  the  antithesis  in  which  he  stands  to  the  present. 
The  tendency  of  the  present  age  is,  consciously  or  un- 
consciously, to  disown  personaUty.  The  laws  which  make 
the  substance  of  its  thought,  the  mechanism  that  makes 
the  framework  of  its  life,  both  tend  to  assert  themselves 
against  the  power  of  a  free  personality.  We  may  illus- 
trate this  by  the  modern  method  of  warfare.  In  ancient 
times  the  victory  depended  on  the  strength  of  the  indi- 
vidual arm  and  the  courage  of  the  individual  heart.    Now 


160  THE   RELATION   OF  JESUS 

it  depends  more  upon  the  drill  of  the  army  and  the  clear 
head  of  the  general. 

This  tendency  of  the  thought  of  the  age  is  not  based  on 
error.  It  brings  to  our  ^bought  of  personality  the  correc* 
tion  that  it  needs.  The  tendency  of  the  past  has  been  to 
look  upon  personality  as  existing  by  and  for  itself.  It 
has  recognized  no  limits  to  the  power  of  freedom.  Each 
individual  stood  by  and  for  himself  in  the  universe.  Now 
Tve  see  a  common  element  in  all  lives.  All  lives  are  en* 
twined  together.  We  see  limits  which  freedom  cannot 
pass.  We  undei-stand  something  of  the  limits  of  each 
individual.  We  understand  something  of  the  laws  of  de- 
scent and  of  the  power  of  education.  Even  the  personality 
of  Jesus  does  not  stand  by  itself  as  it  seemed  to  once. 
We  see  in  him  the  power  of  the  common  nature.  We  see 
in  him  the  effect  of  forces  which  had  been  in  operation 
since  the  world  was.  He  was  no  stranger  upon  the  earth. 
He  was  the  Son  of  God,  but  he  was  no  less  the  Son  of 
man.  He  was  the  flowering  of  a  nation's  histoiy,  the 
flowering  of  humanity.  The  flower  is  drawn  forth  by  the 
sun,  but  it  is  drawn  out  from  the  plant.  Even  the 
sun  can  kindle  the  flame  of  no  rose  upon  the  bramble's 
stalk.  While,  however,  the  age  teaches  us  what  is  the 
background  out  from  which  the  power  of  personality  stands 
forth,  and  what  are  the  elements  that  are  fused  together 
in  it,  personality  itself  remains  too  much  unrecognized. 
But,  I  repeat,  the  integrity  of  human  nature  can  never  be 
violated ;  and  personality  is  the  culmination  of  human 
nature.  The  power  of  a  modem  army,  we  have  seen,  de- 
pends largely  on  its  drill ;  yet  even  here  the  impetuous 
courage  of  a  leader  may  infuse  &  life  into  this  vast  ma- 
chine that  shall  decide  the  victory.    Mere  signals,  it  is 


TO    TUE   PRESENT  AGE.  151 

found,  upon  a  ship  will  not  answer  the  purpose  of  commu- 
nication between  the  captain  and  the  men.  In  times  of 
peril,  in  the  midst  of  the  fury  of  the  storm,  the  sailor  needs 
the  inspiration  of  the  captain's  voice,  ringing  with  a  force 
that  is  mightier  than  the  tempest ;  namely,  the  force  of 
human  will  and  courage.  No  matter  how  mechanical  the 
age  may  become,  no  matter  how  the  idea  of  freedom  may 
be  eliminated  from  its  thought,  the  great  heart  of  hu- 
manity beats  still  in  its  bosom,  and  the  voice  of  a  strong, 
free  personality  will  sooner  or  later  arouse  it  to  an  an- 
swering consciousness.  The  very_J^^"ds  whirk-it  BofM  ^ 
about  personality  will  make  its  power  more  strongly  felt 
t^henjtjs_^ei£fii^ed.  Its  very  knowledge  of  the  elements 
that  are  united  in  it  will  make  it  feel  more  really  the 
might  of  the  force  which  can  fuse  these  into  one  burning 
point. 

Personality  involves  three  elements.  The  first  is  free- 
dom ;  the  second,  a  purpose  freely  chosen;  the  third,  devo- 
tion to  this  purpose.  There  is  no  slavery  like  sin.  Absolute 
freedom,  and  thus  absolute  personality,  can  be  found  only 
in  a  nature  wholly  pure  and  unselfish.  Christ  was  thus 
free.  His  purpose  was  the  vastest  that  any  human  soul 
has  grasped  ;  and  he  gave  himself  to  it  with  all  the  power 
of  his  nature.  Thus  Christ  possessed  the  most  intense 
personality  ever  felt  upon  the  earth.  His  teaching  came 
forth  glowing  with  its  fire.  We  feel  to-day  the  eflfect 
which  his  personality  produced  upon  those  who  came  into 
direct  contact  with  it.  This  influence  has  propagated 
itself  from  age  to  age.  The  Church  grew  out  of  it,  and 
its  influence  is  felt  to-day  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
Church.  Besides  this  indirect  power  of  the  personality 
of  Jesus,  we  may  feel  its  force  directly,  as  we  bring  our- 


152  THE  RELATION   OF  JESUS 

selves  into  personal  relation  with  him.  It  has  not  lost 
its  original  might.  It  still  tends  to  reproduce  itself  in  the 
present. 

The  form  in  which  truth  first  utters  itself  has  a  power 
which  no  subsequent  repetition  can  equal.  There  is  a 
kind  of  work  that  can  be  done  only  once.  The  first  dis- 
coverer or  announcer  of  any  truth  stands  in  a  relation  to 
it  which  no  other  can  ever  fill.  Many  navigators  have 
crossed  the  sea,  but  there  is  only  one  Columbus.  Many 
astronomers  have  searched  the  heavens,  but  there  has 
been  no  second  Newton.  This  fact  is  most  noticeable  in 
regard  to  ti-uths  that  represent  not  merely  the  intellect, 
but  the  whole  moral  and  spiritual  nature  of  him  who 
first  uttered  them  in  their  fhlness.  There  is  a  fact  in 
science  strange,  apparently  illogical,  but  yet  unquestion- 
able. It  is  this :  The  power  of  heat-bearing  rays  to  pass 
through  any  resisting  medium  depends  not  upon  the 
temperature  of  the  rays,  but  upon  that  of  the  body  from 
which  they  come.  The  heat-bearing  rays  of  the  sun  that 
approach  the  earth  hardly  difler  in  temperature  from  the 
rays  that  are  reflected  from  it;  but  the  former  pass 
almost  unimpeded  through  the  atmosphere  by  which  the 
latter  are  to  a  great  extent  imprisoned.  The  rays  reach 
the  earth  without  difficulty,  but  are  entrapped  by  the 
principle  referred  to,  and  remain  to  bless  the  world.  The 
first  have  this  power  to  pass  through  the  atmosphere  be- 
cause they  come  direct  from  the  burning  body  of  the  sun. 
The  reflected  rays  have  lost  this  power,  because  they  pro- 
ceed fi-om  the  colder  earth.  This  law  is  as  true  in  the 
intellectual  and  spiritual  as  it  is  in  the  physical  world. 
The  power  of  moral  and  spiritual  truths  to  penetrate  to 
the  hearts  of  men  has  this  strange  dependence  upon  the 


TO    THE   PRESENT  AGE.  153 

moral  and  spiritual  power  of  him  who  utters  them.  The 
very  spontaneity  of  this  utterance  is  a  revelation  of  this 
power.  It  is  because  the  truth  that  Jesus  uttered  came 
forth  from  his  glowing  heart  of  love,  it  is  because  it  sprang 
fresh  and  spontaneous  from  the  intensity  of  his  spiritual 
life,  that  it  has  such  power  to-day  to  touch  the  hearts  of 
men.  As  the  sun's  rays  preserve  their  penetrating  force 
through  all  the  interplanetary  spaces,  so  the  teachings  of 
Christ  have  preserved  it  through  all  the  reaches  of  history. 
No  subsequent  repetition  of  these  truths  can  ever  have 
quite  the  power  that  their  first  complete  utterance  still 
retains.  And  the  power  that  they  exercise  is  largely  in 
this,  that  they  excite  in  the  hearts  of  men  a  spiritual  life 
akin  to  that  from  which  they  originally  sprang.  Scientific 
truths  are  taught  by  demonstration.  Spiritual  truths  are 
taught  chiefly  by  stimulating  the  spiritual  life.  When 
we  live  merely  in  the  contemplation  of  laws,  in  the  study 
of  external  relations,  our  intellect  is  stimulated,  but  our 
moral  and  spiritual  nature  may  be  comparatively  dormant. 
Our  life  is  stimulated  as  we  are  brought  into  living 
relationship  with  the  universe.  As  our  inner  nature  is 
thus  stimulated,  as  it  rounds  itself  into  completeness, 
the  moral  and  spiritual  consciousness  is  awakened.  This 
is  the  reason  why  it  so  often  happens  that  spiritual  truths 
are  so  real  in  moments  of  sorrow.  In  its  sorrow  the  soul 
lives  wholly  in  love,  and  it  receives  the  enlightenment  of 
love.  Our  nation  had  almost  forgotten  God ;  but  in  those 
terrible  years  of  war,  when  every  soul  was  full  of  life  and 
earnestness,  the  earth  and  the  heavens  were  full  of  God. 
Our  nation's  history  became  transparent  to  us,  as  the 
history  of  the  Hebrews  was  transparent  to  them,  and  we 
saw  God's  providence  in  it  all.    Theology  has  wrestled 

7* 


154  THE  RELATION   OF  JESUS,   ETC. 

vainly  with  science.  In  such  a  struggle  it  will  always  be 
the  loser.  Christian  theology  can  never  conquer  science. 
Christian  life  must  absorb  science  into  itself. 

The  truths  that  Jesus  uttered,  as  they  have  been 
absoi'bed  into  the  common  thought  of  men,  or  as  they  are 
received  directly  from  the  record  of  his  life,  have  a  mighty 
power  to  purify  the  thought  and  elevate  the  hearts  of 
men.  But  I  think  that  the  greatest  power  of  Christ  to- 
day is  that  of  imparting  his  life  to  the  men  and  women 
who  are  now  living  in  the  world.  The  power  of  the 
Church  will  depend  upon  its  power  to  receive  this  life  and 
to  impart  it.  It  is  well  to  have  a  true  theology ;  but  the 
church  that  has  the  most  of  the  life  of  Christ  will  accom- 
plish the  most  for  men.  It  brings  to  this  tnith-seeking 
and  law-investigating  age  the  pure  personality  which  it 
needs.  And  it  will  at  last  j)ossess  the  truest  theology, 
for  now  and  evermore  it  is  the  life  that  is  the  light  of 
men. 


THE    MYTHICAL    ELEMENT 


IH  THB 


NEW    TESTAMENT. 


By  FREDERIC  HENRY  HEDGE. 


THE    MYTHICAL    ELEMENT 


IK  THE 


NEW    TESTAMENT. 


"  4nXooo(^Tepov  koL  airovdaioTepof  notTjaic  laropicK  kariv" 

Abistotlb. 

WHEN  Dr.  Strauss,  thirty-five  years  ago,  in  his  "  Life 
of  Jesus,"  advanced  and  applied  to  the  narrative 
of  the  New  Testament  a  theory  of  interpretation,  in  prin- 
ciple the  same  with  that  which  a  Christian  Father  of  the 
third  century  had  employed  in  his  treatment  of  the  Old, 
the  theological  world  was  profoundly  shocked  by  what 
seemed  to  be  the  last  impiety  of  criticism.  A  hundred 
champions  rushed  with  drawn  pen  to  the  rescue  of  the 
old  interpretation  of  the  text.  The  truth  of  Christianity 
was  supposed  to  be  assailed ;  the  belief  in  Christianity  as 
divine  revelation  was  felt  to  be  imperilled  by  a  theory 
which  substituted  mythical  figment  for  historic  fact.  That 
no  such  harm  was  intended,  or  was  likely  to  ensue  from 
his  labors,  the  author  himself  assures  us  in  the  preface  to 
that  extraordinary  work.  "  The  inner  kernel  of  Christian 
faith,"  he  declares,  "is  entirely  independent  of  all  such 
criticism.  Christ's  supernatural  birth,  his  miracles,  his 
resurrection  and  ascension,  remain  eternal  truths,  how- 
ever their  reality  as  facts  of  history  may  be  called  in 
question." 


168  THE   MYTHICAL   ELEMENT 

In  this  declaration  I  find  a  fitting  text  for  tlie  following 
discourse. 

How  far  does  the  cause  of  Christianity  depend  on  the 
facts,  or  alleged  facts,  of  the  Gospel  narrative  ?  Or,  to 
state  the  question  in  other  words.  Is  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity identical  and  conterminous  with  the  literal  truth  of 
its  record  ? 

It  is  obvious  at  the  start  that  a  certain  amount  of  his- 
toric truth  must  be  assumed  as  implied  in  the  very  exist- 
ence of  any  religion  which  dates  from  a  personal  founder 
whose  thought  it  professes  to  embody,  and  whose  name  it 
bears.  Christianity  purports  to  be  founded  on  the  minis- 
try of  a  Jewish  teacher,  entitled  by  his  followers  "the 
Christ."  We  have  the  testimony  of  a  nearly  contem- 
porary Latin  historian  to  the  fact  that  an  individual  so 
named  was  the  leader  of  a  numerous  body  of  religionists, 
and  was  put  to  death  by  command  of  Pontius  Pilate,  in 
the  reign  of  Tiberius.  But,  without  this  confirmation,  the 
very  existence  of  the  Christian  Church  compels  us  to  accept 
as  historic  facts,  the  ministry  of  Jesus,  the  strong  impres- 
sion of  his  word  and  character,  his  purity  of  manners  and 
moral  greatness,  his  life  of  beneficent  action,  his  martyr 
death,  and  his  manifestation  to  his  disciples  after  death, 
however  that  manifestation  be  conceived,  whether  as 
subjective  experience  or  as  objective  reality.  So  much, 
beyond  all  reasonable  question,  must  stand  as  history, 
vouched  by  documentary  evidence,  and  by  the  existence, 
in  the  first  century,  of  a  church  universally  diffused,  which 
aflirmed  these  facts  as  the  ground  of  its  being,  and  in  the 
strength  of  them  overcame  the  world. 

But,  observe,  it  is  Christianity  that  assures  the  truth  of 
these  facts,  and  not  the  facts  that  prove  Christianity.    To 


IN   THE   NEW    TESTAMENT.  159 

the  truth  of  Christianity  on  the  credibility,  in  every 
particular,  of  the  Gospel  record ;  to  measure  the  claims  of 
the  religion  by  the  strict  historic  verity  of  all  the  narrative 
of  the  New  Testament,  is  to  prejudice  the  Christian  cause 
in  the  judgment  of  competent  critics.  It  is  to  challenge 
the  cavil  and  counter-demonstration  of  unbelief. 

Christianity  assures  the  truth  of  certain  facts ;  but  by 
no  means  of  all  the  facts  affirmed  by  the  writers  of  the 
New  Testament.  Faith  in  Christianity  as  divine  dispen- 
sation does  not  imply,  and  must  not  be  held  to  the  belief, 
as  veritable  history,  of  all  that  is  recorded  in  the  GospeL 
Not  the  historic  sense,  but  the  spiritual  import ;  not  the 
facts,  but  the  ideas  of  the  Gospel,  are  the  genuine  topicg 
of  faith. 

Christianity,  like  every  other  religion,  has  its  mythol- 
ogy,—  a  mythology  so  intertwined  with  the  veritable  facts 
of  its  early  histoiy,  so  braided  and  welded  with  its  first 
beginnings,  that  history  and  myth  are  not  always  dis- 
tinguishable the  one  from  the  other.  Every  historic  reli- 
gion, that  has  won  for  itself  a  conspicuous  place  in  the 
world's  history,  has  evolved  from  a  core  of  fact  a  nimbus 
of  legendary  matter  which  criticism  cannot  always  sepa^ 
rate,  and  which  the  popular  faith  does  not  seek  to  separate, 
from  the  solid  parts  of  the  system.  And  in  one  view  the 
legends  or  myths  which  gather  around  the  initial  stage 
of  any  religion  are  as  true  as  the  vouched  and  substantial 
facts  of  its  record :  they  are  a  product  of  the  same  spirit 
working,  in  the  one  case,  in  the  acts  and  experiences ;  in 
the  other,  in  the  visions,  the  ideas,  the  literary  activity  of 
the  faithful.  It  is  one  and  the  same  motive  that  inspires 
both  the  writer  and  the  doer. 

When  I  speak  of  historic  religions,  I  mean  such  as  trace 


160  THE  MYTHICAL   ELEMENT 

their  origin  to  some  historic  personage,  and  bear  the  im- 
press of  his  idea,  in  contradistinction  to  those  which  have 
sprung  from  unknown  sources,  the  wild  growths  of  nature- 
worship  as  found  in  ancient  Egypt,  in  the  Indian  and 
Scandinavian  peninsulas,  and  in  Greece. 

No  distinction  in  religion  is  so  fundamental  as  that 
between  the  wild  religions  and  those  which  have  sprung 
from  the  word  of  a  human  sower  going  forth  to  sow ;  the 
religions  of  sense  and  those  of  reflection,  the  "  natural " 
and  the  "revealed."  The  prime  characteristic  of  the 
former  is  polytheism;  that  of  the  latter,  monotheism. 
Mosaism,  Mohammcdism,  Buddhism,  —  so  fixr  as  it  knows 
any  God,  —  even  Parsism,  is  monotheistic  in  as  much  as 
its  dualism  is  resolvable  into  the  final  triumph  and  su- 
premacy of  the  good.  No  founder  of  a  religion  ever 
taught  a  plurality  of  gods. 

Another  characteristic  of  the  wild  religions  is  their 
transitoriness.  The  Egyptian,  the  Greco-Roman,  the 
Scandinavian,  perished  long  ago.  Bramanism,  the  last 
survivor  of  the  ancient  polytheisms,  is  fast  melting  be- 
neath the  advancing  heats  of  Islam  and  the  Brahmo 
Somaj.  The  "revealed"  religions  on  the  contrary  are 
permanent.  No  religion  of  historic  origin,  so  far  as  I 
know,  has  ever  died  out.  Judaism,  the  eldest  of  them, 
still  flourishes :  never  since  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem 
has  it  flourished  with  a  greener  leaf  than  now.  Moham- 
mcdism is  pushing  its  conquests  faster  than  Christianity 
in  the  East,  Parsism  is  still  strong  in  Bengal,  Buddhism 
in  one  or  another  form  calls  a  third  part  of  the  population 
of  the  globe  its  own. 

All  religions  have  their  mythologies,  but  with  this 
distinction  :  polytheism  is  mythical  in  principle  as  well  as 


IN   THE   NEW    TESTAMENT.  161 

form,  in  soul  as  well  as  body,  and  mythical  throughout. 
Its  whole  being  is  myth.  Whatever  of  scientific  ox  his- 
toric truth  may  be  hidden  in  any  of  its  legends,  such  as 
the  labors  of  Herakles,  the  fire-theft  of  Prometheus,  or 
the  rape  of  Europa,  is  matter  of  pure  conjecture.  In  the 
"  revealed  "  religions,  on  the  contrary,  the  mythical  is  inci- 
dental, not  principial,  and  always  subordinate  to  doctrine 
or  fact.  Always  the  truth  shines  through  the  myth, 
explains  it,  justifies  it. 

Before  proceeding  any  farther,  I  desire  to  explain  what 
I  mean  by  myth  in  this  connection.  I  shall  not  attempt 
a  philosophic  definition,  but  content  myself  with  this 
general  determination.  I  call  any  story  a  myth  which  for 
good  reasons  is  not  to  be  taken  historically,  and  yet  la 
not  a  wilful  fabrication  with  intent  to  deceive,  but  the 
natural  growth  of  wonder  and  tradition,  or  a  product  of 
the  Spirit  uttering  itself  in  a  narrative  form.  The  myth 
may  be  the  result  of  exaggeration,  the  expansion  cff  a 
veritable  fact  which  gathers  increments  and  a  posse  com- 
itatus  of  additions  as  it  travels  from  mouth  to  ear  and 
ear  to  mouth  in  the  carriage  of  verbal  report ;  or  it  may 
be  the  reflection  of  a  fact  in  the  mind  of  a  writer,  who 
reproduces  it  in  his  writing  with  the  color  and  proportions 
it  has  taken  in  his  conception ;  or  it  may  be  the  poetic 
embodiment  of  a  mental  experience ;  or  it  may  be  what 
Strauss  calls  "  the  deposit  ^  of  an  idea,"  and  another  critic 
**  an  idea  shaped  into  fact."  I  think  we  have  examples 
of  all  these  mythical  formations  in  the  New  Testament ; 
and  I  hold  that  the  credit  of  the  Gospel  in  things  essen- 
tial is  nowise  impaired,  nor  the  claim  of  Christianity  as 
divine  revelation  compromised,  by  a  frank  admission  of 
I  Niederschlag. 


162  THE   MYTHICAL   ELEMENT 

this  admixture  of  fancy  with  fact  in  its  record.  On  the 
contrary,  I  deem  it  important,  in  view  of  the  vulgar  radi- 
calism which  confounds  the  Christian  dispensation  and  its 
record,  soul  and  body,  in  one  judgment,  to  separate  the 
literary  question  from  the  spiritual,  and  to  free  the  cause 
of  faith  from  the  burden  of  the  letter. 

It  has  been  assumed  that  the  proof  of  divine  revelation 
rests  on  precisely  those  portions  of  the  record  which  are 
most  offensive  to  unbelief  On  this  assumption  the  Chris- 
tian apologists  of  a  former  generation  grounded  their  plea. 
Prove  that  we  have  the  testimony  of  eye-witnesses  to  the 
miracles  recorded  in  the  Gospels,  and  Christianity  is  shown 
to  be  a  divine  revelation.  In  the  absence  of  such  proof 
(the  inference  is)  Christianity  can  no  longer  claim  to  be, 
in  the  words  of  Paul,  "  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation." 
This  is  substantially  Paley's  argument.  Planting  him- 
self on  the  premise  that  revelation  is  impossible  without 
miracles,  in  which  it  is  implied  that  miracles  prove  reve- 
lation, he  labors  to  establish  two  propositions :  1.  "  That 
there  is  satisfactory  evidence  that  many  professing  to  be 
original  witnesses  of  the  Christian  miracles  passed  their 
lives  in  dangers,  labors,  and  sufferings,  voluntarily  under- 
gone in  attestation  of  the  accounts  which  they  delivered, 
and  solely  in  consequence  of  their  belief  in  those  accounts ; 
and  that  they  also  submitted  from  the  same  motives  to 
new  rules  of  conduct."  2.  "  That  there  is  not  satisfactory 
evidence  that  persons  pretending  to  be  original  witnesses 
of  any  other  similar  miracles  have  acted  in  the  same  man- 
ner in  attestation  of  the  accounts  which  they  delivered, 
and  solely  in  consequence  of  their  belief  in  the  truth  of 
those  accounts."  The  argument  is  stated  with  the  charac- 
teristic clearness  of  the  author,  and  as  well  supported 


IN   THE   JSIEW  TESTAMENT,  163 

perhaps  as  Anglican  church-erudition  in  those  days  would 
allow ;  but  the  case  is  not  made  out,  and,  if  it  were,  the 
argument  fails  to  satisfy  the  sceptical  mind  of  to-day. 
To  say  nothing  of  its  gross  misconception  of  the  nature 
of  revelation,  which  it  makes  external  instead  of  internal, 
a  stunning  of  the  senses  instead  of  mental  illumination, 
an  appeal  to  prodigy  and  not  its  own  sufficient  witness,  — 
waiving  this  objection,  the  argument  fails  when  con- 
fronted with  the  fact  that,  in  spite  of  the  evidence  which 
scholars  and  critics  the  most  learned  and  acute  of  all  time 
have  arrayed  in  support  of  the  genuineness  of  the  Gospels, 
the  number  is  nowise  diminished,  but  rather  increases,  of 
intelligent  minds  that  find  themselves  unable,  on  the  faith 
of  any  book,  however  ancient,  to  receive  as  authentic  a 
tale  of  wonders  which  contradict  their  experience  of  the 
limits  of  human  ability  and  their  faith  in  the  continuity 
of  nature.  For  myself,  I  beg  to  say,  in  passing,  I  am  not 
of  this  number.  I  do  not  feel  the  force  of  the  objection 
against  miracles  drawn  from  this  alleged  constancy  of  nat- 
ure, which  it  seems  to  me  reduces  the  course  of  human 
events  to  a  dead  mechanical  sequence,  makes  no  allowance 
for  any  reserved  power  in  nature  or  any  incalculable  forces 
of  the  Spirit,  and  virtually  rules  God,  the  present  in- 
working  God,  out  of  the  universe.  I  can  believe  in  any 
miracle  which  does  not  actually  and  demonstrably  contra^ 
vene  and  nullify  ascertained  laws,  however  phenomenally 
foreign  to  nature's  ordinary  course.  But  the  possibility 
of  miracles  is  one  thing,  the  possibility  of  proving  them 
another.  With  such  views  as  these  objectors  entertain 
of  the  constancy  of  nature,  I  confess  that  no  testimony, 
nojt  even  the  written  affidavit  of  a  dozen  witnesses  taken 
on  the  spot,  supposing  that  we  had  it,  would  suffice  to 


164  THE   MYTHICAL   ELEMENT 

convince  me  of  the  truth  of  marvels  occumng  two  thou- 
ijand  years  ago,  of  the  kind  recounted  in  the  Gospels.  My 
Christian  prepossessions  might  incline  me  to  believe  in 
them:  the  weight  of  evidence  would  not.  No  wise  de- 
fender of  the  Christian  cause,  at  the  present  day,  will 
rest  his  plea  on  the  issue  to  which  Paley  committed  its 
claims.  After  all  that  Biblical  critics  and  antiquarian 
research  have  raked  from  the  dust  of  antiquity  in  proof  of 
the  genuineness  and  authenticity  of  the  books  of  the  New 
Testament,  credibility  still  labors  with  the  fact  that  the  age 
in  which  these  books  were  received  and  put  in  circulation 
was  one  in  which  the  science  of  criticism  as  developed  by 
the  moderns  —  the  science  which  scrutinizes  statements, 
balances  evidence  for  and  against,  and  sifts  the  true  from 
the  false  —  did  not  exist ;  an  age  when  a  boundless  cre- 
dulity disposed  men  to  believe  in  wonders  as  readily  as  in 
ordinary  events,  requiring  no  stronger  proof  in  the  case 
of  the  former  than  sufficed  to  establish  the  latter,  —  viz., 
hearsay  and  vulgar  report ;  an  age  when  literary  honesty 
was  a  virtue  almost  unknown,  and  when,  consequently, 
literary  forgeries  were  as  common  as  genuine  productions, 
and  transcribers  of  sacred  books  did  not  scruple  to  alter 
the  text  in  the  interest  of  personal  views  and  doctrinal 
prepossessions.  The  newly  discovered  Sinaitic  Code,  the 
eai'liest  known  manuscript  of  the  New  Testament,  dates 
fi-om  the  fourth  century.  Tischendoif  the  discoverer,  a 
very  orthodox  critic,  speaks  without  reserve  of  the  license 
in  the  treatment  of  the  text  apparent  in  this  manuscript, 
-^a  license,  he  says,  especially  characteristic  of  the  first 
three  centuries. 

These  considerations,  though  they  do  not  discredit  the 
essential  facts  of  the  Gospel  history,  —  facts  assured  to  us, 


IN   THE   NEW   TESTAMENT,  165 

as  I  have  said,  by  the  very  existence  of  the  Christian 
Church,  —  might  seem  to  excuse  the  hesitation  of  the 
sceptic  in  accepting,  on  the  faith  of  the  record,  incidental 
marvels  of  a  kind  very  difficult  of  proof  at  best.  I  recall 
in  tills  connection  the  remarkable  saying  of  an  English 
divine  of  the  seventeenth  century.  "So  great,  in  the 
early  ages,"  says  Bishop  Fell,  "  was  the  license  of  fiction, 
and  so  prone  the  facility  of  believing,  that  the  credibility 
of  history  has  been  gravely  embarrassed  thereby ;  and 
not  only  the  secular  world,  but  the  Church  of  God,  has 
reason  to  complain  of  its  mythical  periods."  * 

It  is  not  in  the  interest  of  criticism,  much  less  of  a  wil- 
ful iconoclasra,  from  which  my  whole  nature  revolts,  but 
of  Christian  faith,  that  I  advocate  the  supposition  of  a 
mythical  element  in  the  New  Testament.  I  am  well 
aware  that  in  this  advocafcy  I  shall  lack  the  consent  of 
many  good  people  who  identify  the  cause  of  religion  with 
its  accidents,  and  fancy  that  the  sanctuary  is  in  danger 
when  a  blind  is  raised  to  let  in  new  light.  I  respect  the 
piety  that  clings  to  idols  which  Truth  has  outgrown,  as 
Paul  at  Athens  respected  the  religion  which  worshipped 
ignorantly  the  unknown  God.  But  Truth  once  seen  will 
draw  piety  after  it,  and  new  sanctities  will  replace  the 
old.  No  Protestant  in  these  days  feels  himself  bound  to 
accept  as  history  the  ecclesiastical  legends  of  the  post- 
apostolic  age.  Some  of  them  are  quite  as  significant  as 
some  of  those  embodied  in  the  canon;  but  no  Protestant 
scruples  to  reject  as  spurious  the  story  of  the  caldron  of 
boiling  oil  into  which  St.  John  was  thrown  by  order  of  the 

1  Tanta  fuit  primis  seculis  fingendi  licentia,  tam  prona  in  credendo  facili- 
tas,  ut  rerum  gestarum  fides  graviter  exinde  laboraverit,  nee  orbis  tantum 
terrarnm  sed  et  Dei  ecclesia  de  temporibus  suis  mythicis  merito  queratur. 


166  THE   MYTHICAL   ELEMENT 

Emperor  Domitian,  and  from  which  he  escaped  unharmed, 
or  that  of  the  lioness  which  licked  the  feet  of  Thecla  in 
the  circus  at  Antioch,  or  Peter's  encounter  with  Christ 
in  the  suburbs  of  Rome.  If  we  talk  of  evidence,  1  do  not 
see  but  the  miracles  said  to  be  performed  by  the  relics  of 
martyrs  at  Milan,  attested  by  St.  Augustine,  and  those 
of  St.  Cuthbert  of  Durham,  attested  by  the  venerable 
Bede,  are  as  well  substantiated  as  the  opening  of  the 
prison  doors  and  the  liberation  of  the  Apostles  by  an 
angel,  attested  by  Luke.  The  Church  of  Rome  makes  no 
such  distinction  between  the  first  and  the  following  cen- 
turies :  she  indorses  the  miracles  of  all  alike.  But  modem 
Protestantism  draws  a  line  of  sharp  separation  between 
the  apostolic  and  the  post-apostolic  ages.  On  the  far- 
ther side  the  portents  are  all  genuine  historic  facts:  on 
the  hither  side  they  are  all  figments.  While  John  the 
Evangelist,  the  last  of  the  twelve,  yet  breathed,  a  miracle 
was  still  possible :  his  breath  departed,  it  became  an  im- 
possibility for  evermore.  And  yet  when  Conyers  Middle- 
ton  first  ran  this  line  between  the  ages,  and  published  his 
refutation  of  the  claim  of  continued  miraculous  power  in 
the  Church,  religious  sensibility  experienced  a  shock  as 
great  as  that  inflicted  in  our  day  by  Strauss,  and  resented 
with  equal  indignation  the  affront  to  Christian  faith.  The 
author  of  the  "Free  Inquiry"  published  in  1748  was 
assailed  by  opponents,  who  "  insinuate  "  he  tells  us  "  fears 
and  jealousies  of  I  know  not  what  consequences  danger- 
ous to  Christianity,  ruinous  to  the  faith  of  history,  and 
introductive  of  universal  scepticism."  The  larger  work 
had  been  preceded  by  an  "  Introductory  Discourse "  put 
forth  as  a  feeler  of  the  public  pulse ;  for  "  I  began,"  he  says, 
**  to  think  it  a  duty  which  candor  and  prudence  prescribed. 


IN   THE   NEW   TESTAMENT.  167 

not  to  alarm  the  public  at  once  with  an  argument  so 
strange  and  so  little  understood,  nor  to  hazard  an  experi- 
ment so  big  with  consequences  till  I  had  at  first  given  out 
some  sketch  or  general  plan  of  what  I  was  projecting." 
The  experiment  which  required  such  careful  preparation 
was  to  ascertain  how  far  the  English  piii)lic  in  the  middle 
of  the  eighteenth  century  would  bear  to  have  it  said  that 
the  miracles  affirmed  by  Augustine  and  Chrysostom  and 
Jerome,  as  occurring  in  their  day,  were  not  as  worthy  of 
credit  as  any  of  the  wonders  recorded  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment. Up  to  that  time,  English  Protestants  as  well  as 
Romanists  had  given  equal  credence  to  both,  and  esteemed 
the  former  as  essential  to  Christian  faith  as  the  latter. 
Men  like  Waterland  and  Dodwell  and  Archbishop  Tillot- 
Bon  held  that  miracles  continued  in  the  Church  until  the 
close  of  the  third  centuiy,  and  were  even  occasionally 
witnessed  in  the  fourth.  Whiston,  the  consistent  Arian, 
maintained  their  continuance  up  to  the  establishment  of 
the  Athanasian  doctrine  in  381,  and  "  that  as  soon  as  the 
Church  became  Athanasian,  antichristian,  and  popish,  they 
ceased  immediately ;  and  the  Devil  lent  it  his  own  cheat- 
ing and  fatal  powers  instead." 

To  me,  I  confess,  the  position  of  the  Church  of  Rome 
in  this  matter  seems  less  indefensible  than  that  of  Mid- 
dleton  and  modem  Protestantism.  Either  deny  the  pos- 
sibility of  miracles  altogether  to  finite  powers,  or  admit 
their  possibility  in  the  second  century,  and  the  third  cen- 
tury, as  well  as  the  first,  and  in  all  centuries  whenever  a 
worthy  occasion  demands  such  agency.  I  can  see  no  rea- 
son for  separating,  as  Middleton  does,  the 'age  of  the  Apos- 
tles fi*om  all  succeeding.  Had  he  drawn  the  line  between 
the  miracles  of  Christ  and  those  ascribed  to  his  followers, 


168  THE   MYTHICAL   ELEMENT 

the  principle  of  division  would  have  been  more  intelligible, 
and  more  admissible  on  the  ground  of  ecclesiastical 
orthodoxy. 

But  the  question  here  is  not  of  the  possibility  or  proba- 
bility of  miracles,  as  such,  in  one  age  rather  than  another. 
It  is  a  question  simply  of  Biblical  interpretation, — 
whether  the  literal  sense  of  the  record  is  in  every  case 
the  true  sense,  whether  history  or  fiction  is  the  key  to 
certain  Scriptures.  Those  who  insist  on  the  verbal  inspi- 
ration of  the  New  Testament  will  be  apt  to  likewise  insist 
on  the  literal  historic  sense  of  every  part  of  every  nan-a- 
tive.  And  yet  that  mode  of  interpretation  is  by  no  means 
a  necessary  consequence  or  logical  outcome  of  that  theory. 
Origen  believed  in  the  verbal  inspiration  of  the  Old 
Testament,  but  Origen  did  not  accept  in  their  literal  sense 
the  Hebrew  theophanies :  he  allegorized  whatever  seemed 
to  him  to  degrade  the  idea  of  God.  The  Spirit  can  utter 
itself  in  fiction  as  well  as  fact,  and  in  communicating 
with  Oriental  minds  was  quite  as  likely  to  do  so.  And 
surely,  for  those  who  reject  the  notion  of  verbal  inspi- 
ration, the  way  is  open,  in  pei-fect  consistency  with  Chria- 
tian  faith,  for  such  interpretation  as  reason  may  approve 
or  the  credit  of  the  record  be  thought  to  require.  The 
credit  of  the  record  will  sometimes  require  an  allegorical 
interpretation  instead  of  a  literal  one. 

It  is  a  childish  limitation  which  in  reading  stories  can 
feel  no  interest  in  any  thing  but  fact ;  and  a  childish  mis- 
conception which  supposes  that  where  the  form  is  narra- 
tive, historic  fact  must  needs  be  the  substance.  Recount 
to  a  little  child  a  fable  of  Pilpay  or  ^sop,  and  his  ques- 
tions betray  his  inability  to  apprehend  it  otherwise'  than 


IN   THE   NEW   TESTAMENT.  169 

as  Kteral  fact.  He  has  no  doubt  of  the  truth  of  the 
Etory ;  "  what  did  the  lion  say  then  ?  "  he  asks ;  and  "  what 
did  the  fox  do  next?"  The  maturer  mind  has  also  no 
doubt  of  the  truth  of  the  story,  but  sees  that  its  truth 
is  the  moral  it  embodies.  Of  many  of  the  Gospel  stories 
the  moral  contained  in  them  is  the  real  truth.  In  the 
height  of  our  late  civil  war  there  appeared  in  a  popular 
journal  a  story  entitled  "A  Man  without  a  Country," 
related  with  such  artistic  verisimilitude,  such  minuteness 
of  detail,  such  grave  official  references,  that  many  who 
read  it  not  once  suspected  the  clever  invention,  and  felt 
themselves  somewhat  aggrieved  when  apprised  that  fic- 
tion, not  fact,  had  conveyed  the  moral  intended  by  the 
genial  author.  But  those  who  saw  from  the  first  through 
the  veil  of  fiction  the  needful  truth  and  the  patriotic 
intent  were  not  less  edified  than  if  they  had  believed  the 
characters  real,  and  every  incident  vouched  by  contem- 
porary record.  The  story  of  William  Tell  was  once  uni- 
versally received  as  authentic  history :  it  was  written  in 
the  hearts  of  the  people  of  Uri,  and  so  religiously  were 
all  its  incidents  cherished,  that  when  a  book  appeared 
discrediting  the  sacred  tradition  it  was  publicly  burned  by 
the  hangman  at  Altorf  For  five  centuries  the  chapel  on 
the  shore  of  the  Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons  has  commemo- 
rated a  hero  whose  very  existence  is  now  questioned,  of 
whom  contemporary  annals  know  nothing,  of  whose  tyrant 
Gessler  the  well-kept  records  of  the  Canton  exhibit  no 
trace,  whose  apple  placed  as  a  mark  for  the  father's  arrow 
on  the  head  of  his  child  is  proved  to  have  done  a  fore- 
gone service  in  an  elder  Danish  tale.  The  story  resolves 
itself  into  an  idea.  That  idea  is  all  that  concerns  us ;  and 
that  idea  survives,  inexpugnable  to  criticism,  a  truth  for 

8 


170  THE  MYTHICAL  ELEMENT 

evermore.  In  the  world  of  ideas  there  is  still  a  William 
Tell  who  defied  the  tyrant  at  Altor^  and  slew  him  at 
Kiisnacht,  and  w^hose  image  will  live  while  the  mountains 
stand  that  gave  it  birth. 

And  so  all  that  is  memorable  out  of  the  past,  all  that 
tradition  has  preserved,  the  veritable  facts  of  history  as 
well  as  the  myths  of  legendary  lore,  pass  finally  into  ideas. 
Only  as  ideas  they  survive,  only  as  ideas  have  they  any 
abiding  value.  The  anecdote  recorded  of  Aristides  —  his 
writing  his  own  name  at  the  request  of  an  ignorant  citizen 
on  the  shell  that  should  condemn  him  —  embodies  a  noble 
idea  which  has  floated  down  to  us  from  the  head-waters  of 
Grecian  history.  Do  we  care  to  know  the  evidence  on 
which  it  rests  ?  If  by  critical  investigation  the  fact  were 
made  doubtful,  would  that  doubt  at  all  impair  the  trath 
of  the  idea  ?  The  story  of  Damon  and  Py tliias,  reported 
by  Valerius  Maximus,  for  aught  that  we  know,  may  be  a 
myth :  suppose  it  could  be  proved  to  be  so,  the  truth  that 
is  in  it  would  be  none  the  less  precious.  "We  do  not 
receive  it  on  the  faith  of  the  historian,  but  on  the  faith  of 
its  own  intrinsic  beauty.  There  is  scarcely  a  fact  in  the 
annals  of  mankind  so  vouched  and  ascertained  as  to  be 
beyond  the  reach  of  historic  doubt,  if  any  delver  in 
ancient  documents,  or  curious  sceptic,  shall  see  fit  to  call 
it  in  question.  But,  however  the  fact  may  be  questioned, 
the  idea  remains.  We  have  lived  to  see  apologies  for 
Judas  Iscariot,  and  the  literary  rehabilitation  of  Henry 
VIII.  But  Judas  is  none  the  less,  in  popular  tradition, 
the  typical  traitor,  the  impersonation  of  devilish  malice ; 
and  Henry  VIII.  is  no  less  the  remorseless  tyrant  whose 
will  was  his  God.  When  Napoleon  I.  pronounced  all 
history  a  fable  agreed  on,  he  reasoned  better  perhaps  than 


IN   TEE  NEW   TESTAMENT.  17* 


he  knew.  The  agreement  is  the  thing  essential ;  but  that 
agreement  is  never  complete,  is  never  final.  Every  origi- 
nal writer  of  history  finds  something  to  qualify,  and  often 
something  to  reverse,  in  the  judgment  of  his  predeces- 
sors. How  can  it  be  otherwise,  when  even  eye-witnesses 
disagree  in  their  observation  and  report  of  the  same  tran&. 
action ;  when  even  in  a  matter  so  recent  as  the  siege  of 
Paris,  or  the  conflagration  of  Chicago,  the  verification  of 
facts  is  embarrassed  by  contradictory  accounts?  The  best 
that  history  yields  to  philosophic  thought  is  not  facts,  but 
ideas.  These  are  all  that  remain  at  last  when  the  tale  is 
told,  —  all,  at  least,  that  the  mind  can  appropriate,  all  that 
profits  in  historical  studies,  the  intellectual  harvest  of  the 
past.  A  fact  means  nothing  until  thought  has  transmuted 
it  into  itself:  its  value  is  simply  the  idea  it  subtends. 
Homer's  heroes  are  as  ti*ue  in  this  sense  as  those  of  Plu- 
tarch. Ajax  and  Hector  are  as  real  to  me  as  Cimon  or 
Lysander;  Don  Quixote's  battle  with  the  windmills  which 
Cervantes  imagined  is  as  real  as  the  battle  of  Lepanto  in 
which  Cervantes  fought;  and  Shakespeare's  Hamlet  is 
incomparably  more  real  than  the  Prince  of  Denmark 
whom  Saxo  Grammaticus  chronicles. 

I  do  not  underrate  the  importance  of  facts  on  their  own 
historic  plane.  The  historian,  as  annalist,  is  bound  by  the 
rules  of  his  craft  with  conscientious  investigation  to  ascer- 
tain, substantiate,  and  establish,  if  he  can,  the  precise  fiicts 
of  the  period  he  explores.  I  only  contend  that  historic 
truth  is  not  the  only  truth ;  that  a  fact,  —  if  I  may  use  that 
term  in  this  connection  for  want  of  a  better,  —  that  a  fact 
which  is  not  historically  true  may  yet  be  true  on  a  higher 
plane  than  that  of  history,  true  to  reason,  to  moral  and 
religious  sentiment  and  human  need.   The  story  of  Christ's 


172  THE   MYTHICAL   ELEMENT 

temptation  is  none  the  less  true,  but  a  great  deal  more  so, 
when  the  narrative  which  embodies  the  interior  psycho- 
logical fact  is  conceived  as  myth,  than  when  it  is  inter- 
preted as  veritable  history.  The  truth  that  concerns  113 
is  that  the  Son  of  Man  "was  tempted  in  all  points  as 
we  are,"  not  that  he  was  taken  by  the  Devil  and  set  on 
a  pinnacle  of  the  Temple,  and  thence  spuited  away  "  into 
an  exceeding  high  mountain." 

We  Jiave  now  attained  a  point  of  view  from  wliich  to 
estimate  on  the  one  hand  the  real  import  of  what  I  have 
ventured  to  call  the  myths  of  the  New  Testament,  and 
on  the  other  hand  to  ovennile  the  petulant  radicalism 
which,  not  distinguishing  truth  of  idea  from  truth  of  fact, 
contemns  these  legends,  and  perhaps  contemns  the  Gospel, 
on  their  account.  I  have  wished  to  show  how  unessential 
it  is  to  the  right  enjoyment  or  profitable  use  of  those  por- 
tions of  the  record  that  we  receive  them  as  fact ;  to  show 
that,  if  we  seize  and  appropriate  the  idea,  those  narratives 
are  quite  as  edifying  from  a  mythical  as  fi*om  an  historical 
point  of  view ;  in  other  words,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  may 
and  does  instruct  by  fiction  as  well  as  fact.  If  I  am 
asked  to  draw  the  line  which  separates  fact  from  fiction, 
or  to  fix  the  criterion  by  which  to  discriminate  the  one 
from  the  other,  I  answer  that  I  do  not  pretend  to  decide 
this  point  for  myself^  much  less  should  I  presume  to 
attempt  to  settle  it  for  others.  I  am  not  disposed  to 
dogmatize  on  the  subject.  It  is  a  matter  in  which  each 
must  judge  for  himself.  I  will  only  say  that  for  myself 
I  do  not  place  the  line  of  demarcation  between  miracle 
and  the  unmiraculous,  for  the  reason  that  it  seems  to  me, 
as  I  said  before,  unphilosophical  to  make  our  every-day 
experience  of  the  limits  of  human  power  and  the  capabili- 


IN  THE  NEW   TESTAMENT,  173 

ties  of  nature  an  absolute  standard  by  which  to  measure 
the  possible  scope  of  the  one  or  the  other. 

I  content  myself  with  a  single  illustration  of  what  I 
regard  as  a  mythical  formation.  My  example  is  the  story 
known  as  "  The  Annunciation."  Luke  alone,  of  all  the 
evangelists,  records  the  tale.  The  angel  Gabriel  is  sent 
to  a  virgin  named  Mary,  and  surprises  her  with  the 
tidings,  "Thou  shalt  conceive  in  thy  womb,  and  shalt 
bring  forth  a  son,  and  shalt  call  his  name  Jesus.  He 
shall  be  great,  and  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  the  Highest. 
And  the  Lord  God  shall  give  unto  him  the  throne  of  his 
fiither  David.  And  he  shall  reign  over  the  house  of  Jacob 
for  ever,  and  of  his  kiifgdom  there  shall  be  no  end."  This 
beautiful  legend,  the  most  beautiful,  I  think,  of  all  the 
legends  connected  with  the  birth  of  Christ,  the  favorite 
theme  of  Christian  art,  so  lovingly  handled  by  Fra  Angel- 
ico,  by  Correggio,  Raphael,  Titian,  Andrea  del  Sarto,  and 
a  host  of  others,  is  best  understood  as  a  Jewish-Christian 
conception,  taking  an  historic  foi*m  and  "  shaped  into  a 
fact."  The  legend  represents  the  humility  and  faith  of  a 
pious  maiden  communing  with  the  heavenly  Presence, 
drawing  to  herself  divine  revelations  of  grace  and  promise, 
and  thus  sanctioning  the  hope  so  dear  to  every  Jewish 
maiden,  —  that  of  becoming  the  mother  of  the  Messiah. 
The  sudden  inspiration  of  that  hope  is  the  angel  of  the 
Annunciation. 

A  word  more.  How  far  is  our  idea  of  Christ  affected 
by  a  mode  of  interpretation  which  supposes  a  mingling 
of  mythical  with  historic  elements  in  the  Gospel  record  ? 
That  idea  is  based  on  the  representations  of  the  evangel- 
ists. Will  not  our  confidence  in  those  representations  be 
impaired  by  this  view  of  their  contents  ?    I  see  no  cause 


174  THE   MYTHICAL   ELEMENT 

to  apprehend  a  result  so  distressing  to  Christian  faith. 
The  mythical  interpretation  of  certain  portions  of  the 
Gospel  has  no  appreciable  bearing  on  the  character  of 
Christ.  The  impartial  reader  of  the  record  must  see  that 
the  evangelists  did  not  invent  that  character;  they  did 
not  make  the  Jesus  of  their  story ;  on  the  contrary,  it 
was  he  that  made  them.  It  is  a  true  saying  that  only  a 
Christ  could  invent  a  Christ.  The  Christ  of  history  is  a 
true  reflection  of  the  image  which  Jesus  of  Nazareth  im- 
printed on  the  mind  of  his  contemporaries.  In  that  image 
the  spiritual  greatness,  the  moral  perfection,  are  not  more 
conspicuous  than  the  well-defined  individuality  which  per- 
meates the  story,  and  which  no  genius  could  invent. 

If  the  Christ  of  the  Church,  of  Christian  faith,  is,  as 
some  will  have  it,  an  ideal  being,  it  was  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
who  made  the  ideal.  The  ideal  in  him  is  simply  the  result 
of  that  disengagement  from  the  earthly  vestiture  which 
death  and  distance  work  in  all  who  live  in  history.  By 
the  very  necessity  of  its  function,  history  idealizes.  The 
historic  figure  and  the  individual  represented  by  it,  though 
inseparably  one  in  substance,  are  not  so  identical  in  out- 
line that  the  one  exactly  covers  the  other,  no  more  and  no 
less.  The  individual  is  the  bodily  presence  as  it  dwells 
in  space ;  the  historic  figure  is  the  image  of  himself  which 
the  individual  stamps  on  his  time,  and,  so  far  as  his  record 
reaches,  on  all  succeeding  time,  —  his  import  to  human 
kind.  That  image  is  a  veritable  portrait,  but  not  in  the 
sense  of  a  facsimile.  A  material  portrait,  a  portrait 
painted  with  hands,  if  the  painter  understands  his  art,  is 
not  a  facsimile :  it  presents  the  chronic  idea  or  charac- 
teristic mode,  not  the  temporary  accidents,  "  the  fallings 
0%  the  vanishings,"  of  the  person  portrayed.    In  the  hero- 


IN   THE   NEW   TESTAMENT.  17 

galleries  of  Tradition,  as  in  the  visions  of  the  Apocalypse, 
they  are  seen  with  white  robes,  and  palms  in  their  hands, 
and  unwrinkled  brows  of  grace,  who  in  life  were  begrimed 
with  the  dust  and  furrowed  with  the  cares  of  their  time. 
St.  Paul  is  there  without  his  thorn  in  the  flesh,  Luther  with- 
out his  impatience,  Washington  without  his  fiery  choler, 
Lincoln  without  his  coarseness,  Dante  and  Milton  without 
their  scorn.  History  strips  off  the  indignities  of  earth 
when  she  dresses  her  heroes  for  immortality.  And  the 
transfigurations  she  gives  us  are  nearer  the  truth  than  the 
limitations  of  ordinary  life.  The  man  is  more  truly  him- 
self in  the  epic  strain  of  public  action,  with  spirit  braced 
and  harness  on,  than  in  the  subsidence  and  undress  of  the 
closet.  It  is  not  the  gossiping  anecdotes,  the  spoils  of 
the  ungirt  private  life,  so  dear  to  antiquaries  and  literary 
scavengers,  but  the  things  which  history  hastens  to  record, 
that  show  the  man.  We  must  take  the  life  at  full-tide ; 
we  must  view  it  in  its  freest  determination,  in  its  supreme 
moment,  to  know  the  deepest  that  is  in  him.  And  the 
deepest  that  is  in  him  is  the  true  man.  That  is  his  idea, 
his  mission  to  the  world,  his  historic  significance.  It  is 
this  that  concerns  us  in  all  the  great  actors  of  history,  — 
the  historic  person,  not  the  individual.  And  the  more  the 
historic  person  absorbs  the  individual,  the  higher  we  rise 
in  the  scale  of  being  until  we  reach  the  idea  of  God,  fi-om 
which  all  individuality  is  excluded,  and  only  the  Person 
remains,  filling  space  and  time  with  the  ceaseless  proces- 
sion of  his  being. 

We  misread  the  Gospel  and  reverse  the  true  and  divine 
order,  if  we  suppose  the  ideal  Christ  to  be  an  essence 
distilled  from  the  historical.  On  the  contrary,  the  ideal 
Christ  is  the  root  and  ground  of  the  historical ;  and  without 


176  THE   MYTHICAL   ELEMENT,   ETC. 

the  antecedent  idea  inspiiing,  commanding,  the  history 
would  never  have  been. 

It  has  not  been  my  intention  in  any  thing  I  have  said  to 
make  light  of  the  record.  The  record  to  me  is  a  literary 
relic  of  inestimable  value,  aboriginal  memorial  of  the 
dearest  and  divinest  appearance  in  human  form  that  ever 
beamed  on  earthly  scenes.  I  sympathize  with  every 
attempt  to  clear  up  and  verify  its  minutest  details,  with 
the  laboi*s  of  all  critics  and  archaBologists  devoted  to  this 
end.  I  rejoice  in  all  topographical  adjustments  and  illus- 
trations ;  in  all  that  local  researches,  following  in  the  steps 
of  "those  blessed  feet,"  have  gleaned  from  the  soil  of 
Palestine.  But  all  this  is  important  only  as  it  draws  its 
inspiration  from  and  leads  my  aspiration  to  the  ideal 
Christ,  "  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever."  Dis- 
sociated from  this  idea,  the  acres  of  Palestine  are  as 
barren  as  any  which  the  ebbing  of  a  nation's  life  has  left 
desolate. 


THE    PLACE    OF    MIND    IN    NATURE 


INTUITION     IN    MAN. 


Bt    JAMES    MARTINEAU. 


8* 


THE    PLACE    OF    MIND    IN    NATUEE 


INTUITION    IN    MAN. 


**  Behold,  there  went  forth  a  Sower  to  sow." — Mark  iv.  8. 

'TPHAT  the  universe  we  see  around  us  was  not  always 
•*■  there,  is  so  little  disputed,  that  every  philosophy 
and  every  faith  undertakes  to  tell  how  it  came  to  be. 
They  all  assume,  as  the  theatre  of  their  problem,  the  field 
of  space  where  all  objects  lie,  and  the  track  of  time  where 
events  have  reached  the  Now.  But  into  these  they  carry, 
to  aid  them  in  representing  the  origin  of  things,  such 
interpreting  conceptions  as  may  be  most  familiar  to  the 
knowledge  or  fancy  of  their  age :  first,  the^a^  of  Almighty 
Will,  which  bade  the  void  be  filled,  so  that  the  light 
kindled,  and  the  waters  swayed,  and  the  earth  stood  fast 
beneath  the  vault  of  sky ;  next,  when  the  sway  of  poetry 
and  force  had  yielded  to  the  inventive  arts,  the  idea  of  a 
contriving  and  adapting  jyower,  building  and  balancing  the 
worlds  to  go  smoothly  and  keep  time  together,  and  stock- 
ing them  with  self-moving  and  sensitive  machines;  and 
now,  since  physiology  has  got  to  the  front,  the  analogy  of 
the  seed  or  germ,  in  itself  the  least  of  things,  yet  so  prolific 
that,  with  history  long  enough,  it  will  be  as  spawn  upon 


180  THE   PLACE    OF   MIND   IN   NATURE 

the  waters,  and  fill  every  waste  with  the  creatures  as  tliey 
are.  The  prevalence  of  this  newest  metaphor  betrays  it- 
self in  the  current  language  of  science*  we  now  '-'■  unfold^ 
what  we  used  to  "'take  to  pieces;'*^  we  '''■develop"  the 
theory  which  we  used  to  '•''construct;'*''  we  treat  the  sys- 
tem of  the  world  as  an  "  organism  "  rather  than  a  "  mech- 
anism y  "  we  search  each  of  its  members  to  see,  not  what 
it  IS  for,  but  what  it  \%from;  and  the  doctrine  o^  Evolnr- 
tion  only  applies  the  image  of  indefinite  growth  of  the 
greater  out  of  the  less,  till  from  some  datum  invisible  to 
the  microscope  arises  a  teeming  univei-se. 

In  dealing  with  these  three  conceptions, —  of  Creation, 
Construction,  Evolution,  —  there  is  one  thing  on  which 
Religion  insists,  viz.,  that  Mind  is  first,  and  rules  for  ever  ; 
and,  whatever  the  process  be,  is  its  process,  moving  towards 
congenial  ends.  Let  this  be  granted,  and  it  matters  not 
by  what  path  of  method  the  Divine  Thought  advances,  or 
how  long  it  is  upon  the  road.  Whether  it  flashes  into 
realization,  like  lightning  out  of  Night ;  or  fabricates,  like 
a  Demiurge,  through  a  producing  season,  and  then  beholds 
the  perfect  work;  or  is  for  ever  thinking  into  life  the 
thoughts  of  beauty  and  the  love  of  good ;  whether  it  calls 
its  materials  out  of  nothing,  or  finds  them  ready,  and  dis- 
poses of  them  from  without ;  or  throws  them  around  aa 
its  own  manifestation,  and  from  within  shapes  its  own  pur- 
pose into  blossom,  —  makes  no  difierence  that  can  be  fatal 
to  human  piety.  Time  counts  for  nothing  with  the  Eter- 
nal ;  and  though  it  should  appear  that  the  system  of  the 
world  and  the  ranks  of  being  arose,  not  by  a  start  of 
crystallization,  but,  like  the  gi-ass  or  the  forest,  by  silent 
and  seasonal  gradations,  as  true  a  woi-ship  may  be  paid  to 
the  Indwelling  God  who  makes  matter  itself  transparent 


AND   INTUITION  IN  MAN  l8l 

with  spiritual  meanings,  and  breathes  before  us  in  the 
pulses  of  nature,  and  appeals  to  us  in  the  sorrows  of  men, 
as  to  the  pre-existing  Deity  who,  from  an  infinite  loneli- 
ness, suddenly  became  the  Maker  of  all.  Nay,  if  the  poet 
always  looks  upon  the  world  through  a  suppliant  eye, 
craving  to  meet  his  own  ideal  and  commune  with  it  alive ; 
if  prayer  is  ever  a  "  feeling  after  Him  to  find  Him,"  the 
fervor  and  the  joy  of  both  must  be  best  sustained,  if  they 
are  conscious  not  only  of  the  stillness  of  His  presence,  but 
of  the  movement  of  His  thought,  and  never  quit  the  date 
of  His  creative  moments.  In  the  idea,  therefore,  of  a 
gi-adual  unfolding  of  the  creative  plan,  and  the  maturing 
of  it  by  rules  of  growth,  there  is  nothing  necessarily  preju- 
dicial to  piety;  and  so  long  as  the  Divine  Mind  is  left  in 
undisturbed  supremacy,  as  the  living  All  in  all,  the  belief 
may  even  foster  a  larger,  calmer,  tenderer  devotion,  than 
the  conceptions  which  it  supersedes.  But  it  is  liable  to  a 
special  illusion,  which  the  others  by  their  coarsely  separat- 
ing lines  manage  to  escape.  Taking  all  the  causation  of 
the  world  into  the  interior,  instead  of  setting  it  to  operate 
from  without,  it  seems  to  dispense  with  God,  and  to  lodge 
the  power  of  indefinite  development  in  the  first  seeds  of 
things;  and  the  apprehension  seizes  us,  that  as  the  oak 
will  raise  itself  when  the  acorn  and  the  elements  are  given, 
80  from  its  gei*ms  might  the  universe  emerge,  though 
nothing  Divine  were  there.  The  seeds  no  doubt  were  on 
the  field  ;  but  who  can  say  whether  ever  "  a  Sower  went 
forth  to  sow  *'  ?  So  long  as  you  plant  the  Supreme  Cause 
at  a  distance  from  His  own  effects,  and  assign  to  Him  a 
space  or  a  time  where  nothing  else  can  be,  the  conception 
of  that  separate  and  solitary  existence,  however  barren, 
is  secure.      But  in  proportion  as  you  think  of  Him  a3 


182  THE   PLACE    OF   MIND    IN  NATURE 

never  in  an  empty  field,  waiting  for  a  future  beginning  ot* 
activity,  as  you  let  Him  mingle  with  the  elements  and 
blend  with  the  natural  life  of  things,  there  is  a  seeming 
danger  lest  His  light  should  disappear  behind  the  opaque 
material  veil,  and  His  Spirit  be  quenched  amid  the  shadows 
of  inexorable  Law.  This  danger  haunts  our  time.  The 
doctrine  of  Evolution,  setting  itself  to  show  how  the 
greatest  things  may  be  brought  out  of  the  least,  fills  us 
with  fear  whether  perhaps  Mind  may  not  be  last  instead 
of  first,  the  hatched  and  full-fledged  fonn  of  the  protoplas- 
mic egg;  whether  at  the  outset  any  thing  was  there  but 
the  raw  rudiments  of  matter  and  force;  whether  the  hier- 
archy of  organized  beings  is  not  due  to  progressive  differ- 
entiation of  structure,  and  resolvable  into  splitting  and 
agglutination  of  cells;  whether  the  Intellect  of  man  is 
more  than  blind  instinct  grown  self-conscious,  and  shaping 
its  beliefs  by  defining  its  own  shadows ;  whether  the  Moral 
sense  is  not  simply  a  trained  acceptance  of  rules  worked 
out  by  human  interests,  an  inherited  record  of  the  utili- 
ties ;  so  that  Design  in  Nature,  Security  in  the  Intuitions 
of  Reason,  Divine  Obligation  in  the  law  of  Conscience, 
may  all  be  an  illusory  semblance,  a  glory  from  the  later 
and  ideal  days  thrown  back  upon  the  beginning,  as  a 
golden  sunset  flings  its  light  across  the  sky,  and,  as  it 
sinks,  dresses  up  the  East  again  with  borrowed  splendor. 

This  doubt,  which  besets  the  whole  intellectual  religion 
of  our  time,  assumes  that  we  must  measvre  every  nature 
in  its  beginnings  ;  admit  nothing  to  belong  to  its  essence 
except  what  is  found  in  it  then ;  and  deny  its  reports  of 
itself,  so  far  as  they  depart  from  that  original  standard. 
It  takes  two  forms,  according  as  the  doctrine  of  Evolution 
is  applied  to  Man  himself,  or  to  the  outward  universe.     Id 


AND   INTUITION  IN  MAN  183 

the  former  case,  it  infuses  distrust  into  our  self-knowledge, 
weakens  our  subjective  religion  or  native  faith  in  the 
intuitions  of  thought  and  conscience,  and  tempts  us  to 
imagine  that  the  higher  they  are,  the  furthev  are  they 
fi-om  any  assured  solidity  of  base.  In  the  latter  case,  it 
weakens  our  objective  religion,  suggests  that  there  is  no 
originating  Mind,  and  that  the  divine  look  of  the  world 
is  but  the  latest  phase  of  its  finished  surface,  instead  of 
the  incandescence  of  its  inmost  heart.  Let  us  first  glance 
at  the  theory  of  humajj  evolution,  and  the  moral  illusions 
it  is  apt  to  foster. 

I.  Under  the  name  of  the  "Experience  Philosophy," 
this  theory  has  long  been  applied  to  the  mind  of  the  indi- 
vidital;  and  has  produced  not  a  few  admirable  analyses 
of  the  formation  of  language  and  the  tissue  of  thought ; 
nor  is  there  any  legitimate  objection  to  it,  except  so  far 
as  its  simplifications  are  overstrained  and  cannot  be  made 
good.  It  undertakes,  with  a  minimum  of  initial  capacity, 
to  account  for  the  maximum  of  human  genius  and  charac- 
ter: give  it  only  the  sensible  pleasures  and  pains,  the 
spontaneous  muscular  activity,  and  the  law  by  which 
associated  mental  phenomena  cling  together;  and  out  of 
these  elements  it  will  weave  before  your  eyes  the  whole 
texture  of  the  perfect  inner  life,  be  it  the  patterned  story 
of  imagination,  the  delicate  web  of  the  affections,  or  the 
seamless  robe  of  moral  purity.  The  outfit  is  that  of  the 
animal ;  the  product  but  "  a  little  lower  than  the  angel." 
All  the  higher  endowments  —  our  apprehension  of  truth, 
our  consciousness  of  duty,  our  self-sacrificing  pity,  our 
religious  reverence  —  are  in  this  vicAV  merely  transformed 
sensations ;  the  disinterested  impulses  are  refinements  spun 
out  of  the  coarse  fibre  of  self-love ;  the  subtlest  intellect- 


184  THE   PLACE    OF   MIND   IN  NATURE 

ual  ideas  are  but  elaborated  perceptions  of  sight  or  touch ; 
and  the  sense  of  Right,  only  interest  or  fear  under  a 
disguise.  If  this  be  so,  how  will  the  discovery  affect  our 
natural  trust  in  the  intimations  of  our  supreme  faculties  ? 
Does  it  not  discharge  as  dreams  their  most  assured  reve- 
lations ?  By  intuition  of  Reason  we  believe  in  the  Law 
of  Causality,  in  the  infinitude  of  Space,  in  the  relations 
of  Number,  in  the  reality  of  an  outside  world,  in  all  the 
fundamental  conceptions  of  Science ;  but  here  are  they, 
one  and  all,  recalled  to  the  standard  of  Sense,  which  they 
seem  to  transcend,  and  emptied  of  any  meaning  beyond. 
By  vision  of  Imagination  we  see  an  ideal  beauty  enfold- 
ing many  a  person  and  many  a  scene,  .and  appealing  to 
us  as  a  pathetic  light  gleaming  from  within ;  but  here  we 
find  it  all  resolved  into  curvature  of  lines  and  adjustments 
of  color.  By  inspiration  of  Conscience  we  learn  that  our 
sin  is  the  defiance  of  a  Divine  authority,  and,  though  hid 
from  every  human  eye,  drives  us  into  a  wildeniess  t)f 
Exile,  — for  "  the  wicked  fleeth,  though  no  man  pursueth  ; " 
but  here  we  are  told  that  the  ultimate  elements  of  good 
and  evil  are  our  own  pleasures  and  pains,  from  which  the 
moral  sanction  selects  as  its  specialty  the  approbation  and 
disapprobation  of  our  fellow-men.  Thus  all  the  inde- 
pendent values  which  our  higher  faculties  had  claimed 
for  their  natural  affections  and  beliefs  are  dissipated  as 
fallacious;  they  are  all  based  upon  a  sentient  measure  of 
worth  which  lies  at  the  bottom;  they  are  like  paper 
money,  refined  contrivances  representative  of  the  ultimate 
gold  of  pleasure,  but,  where  not  interchangeable  with  this; 
intrinsically  worthless.  And  so  the  feeling  almost  inevi- 
tably spreads,  that  we  are  dupes  of  our  own  characteristic 
capacities ;  that  the  loftier  air  into  which  they  lift  us  is  a 


AND  INTUITION  IN  MAN.  185 

tinted  and  distorting  medium,  and  shows  us  glories  that 
are  not  there ;  that  the  idea  of  an  eternal  Fount  of 
beauty,  truth  and  goodness,  behind  the  pleasingness  and 
ooncinnity  of  phenomena,  is  an  illusion;  and  that  the 
tendency,  irresistible  as  it  is,  to  cling  to  this  idea  as  some- 
thing higher  than  its  denial,  is  but  a  part  of  the  romance. 
Is  this  scepticism  imaginary  ?  Let  any  one,  in  studying 
the  modern  writers  of  this  school,  compare  the  solid, 
manly,  sensible  way  in  which  they  deal  with  every  thing 
on  the  physiological  and  sensational  level,  with  their 
manner  towards  all  the  convictions  and  sentiments  usually 
recognized  as  the  supreme  lights  of  our  nature ;  the  tone 
now  of  forbearing  indulgence,  now  of  sickly  appreciation, 
often  of  hardly  concealed  contempt,  that  is  heard  beneath 
the  interminable  conjectural  analyses  of  Moral  and  Reli- 
gious affections,  —  and  he  will  feel  the  difference  between 
the  honor  that  is  paid  to  truth,  and  the  constrained 
patience  towards  what  other  men  revere. 

By  a  recent  extension,  the  theory  of  Evolution  has  been 
applied  to  the  whole  natural  history  of  our  race ;  and  the 
resources  of  Habit^  already  serviceable  in  explaining  the 
aptitudes  of  individuals,  have  been  turned  to  account  on 
the  larger  scale  of  successive  generations,  transmitting  by 
inheritance  the  acquisitions  hitherto  made  good.  In  the 
training  of  a  nature,  the  world  thus  becomes  a  permanent 
school,  the  interruption  of  death  is  virtually  abolished,  and 
life  is  laid  open  to  continuous  progress.  By  this  immense 
gain  of  power,  it  is  supposed,  all  the  differences  which 
separate  Man  from  other  animals  may  be  accounted  for  as 
gradual  attainments ;  and  many  an  intuition  of  the  mind, 
too  immediate  and  self-evident  to  be  a  product  of  personal 
experience,  may  yield  to  analysis  as  a  more  protracted 


186  THE   PLACE    OF   MIND   IN  NATURE 

growth,  and  stand  as  the  compend  of  ages  of  gathering 
feeling  and  condensing  thought.  Among  creatures  that 
herd  together  for  common  safety,  each  one  learns  to  read 
the  looks  of  anger  or  of  good- will  in  its  neighbors,  and  dis- 
covers what  it  is  that  brings  upon  him  the  one  or  other ; 
and  insensibly  he  forms  to  himself  a  rule  for  avoiding  the 
displeasure  and  conciliating  the  favor  in  which  he  has  so 
large  an  interest.  This  rudimentary  experience  imprints 
and  records  itself  in  the  nervous  organization,  and  descends 
to  ulterior  generations  as  an  original  and  instinctive  recoil 
from  what  offends  and  impulse  towards  what  gratifies  the 
feeling  of  the  tribe :  so  that  the  lesson  needs  not  be  gone 
over  again;  but  the  offspring,  taking  up  his  education 
where  the  parent  left  off,  accumulates  his  feeling,  quickens 
his  mental  execution,  and  hands  down  fi-esh  contributions 
to  what  at  last  emerges  as  a  Moral  Sense.  In  this  way, 
it  is  contended,  the  Conscience  is  a  hoarded  fund  of  tra- 
ditionary pressures  of  utility,  gradually  effacing  the 
primitive  vestiges  of  fear,  and  dispensing  itself  with  an 
affluence  of  disinterested  sympathy.  And  the  religious 
consciousness  that  visits  the  soul  in  its  remorse,  of  an 
invisible  Witness  and  Judge  who  condemns  the  sin, 
comes,  we  are  told,  from  the  deification  of  public  opinion, 
or  the  fancy  that  some  dead  hero's  ghost  still  watches 
over  the  conduct  of  his  clan. 

This  vast  enlargement  of  the  doctrine  of  Evolution, 
while  increasing  its  power,  and  removing  it  from  the 
reach  of  accurate  tests,  alters  neither  its  principle  nor  its 
practical  effect.  It  undertakes  to  exhibit  the  highest  and 
the  greatest  in  our  nature  as  ulterior  phenomena  of  the 
lowest  and  the  least.  And  it  usually  treats  as  a  super- 
stition our  natural  reverence  for  the  rational,  moral,  and 


AND  INTUITION  IN  MAN.  187 

religious  intuitions  as  sources  of  independent  insight  and 
ultimate  authority ;  and,  in  order  to  estimate  them,  trans- 
lates them  back  into  short-hand  expressions  of  sensible 
experience  and  social  utility.  Nor  can  we  wonder  at  this 
scepticism.  If  the  only  reality  at  bottom  of  the  sense  of 
duty  is  fear  and  submission  to  opinion,  whatever  it  carries 
in  it  that  transcends  this  ground,  and  persuades  us  of  an 
Obligation  in  which  fear  and  opinion  have  no  voice,  is  an 
ideal  addition  got  up  within  us  by  causes  which  produce 
in  us  all  sorts  of  psychological  figments.  If  the  only  fxcts 
that  lie  in  our  idea  of  Space  are  a  set  of  feelings  in  the 
muscles  and  the  skin  and  the  eye,  then  whatever  beliefs 
it  involves  which  these  cannot  verify  are  naturally  dis- 
credited, and  treated  as  curiosities  of  artificial  manu- 
facture. If  our  human  characteristics  are  throughout  the 
developed  instincts  of  the  brute,  diflTering  only  in  degree, 
then  the  moment  they  present  us  with  intuitions  which 
are  distinct  in  kind,  they  begin  to  play  us  false ;  and  those 
who  see  through  the  cheat  naturally  warn  us  against 
them.  And  so  we  are  constantly  told  that  our  highest 
attributes  are  only  the  lower  that  have  lost  their  memory, 
and  mistake  themselves  for  something  else. 

It  is  not  my  present  intention  to  call  in  question  either 
of  these  varieties  of  evolution.  Inadequate  as  the  evi- 
dence of  them  both  appears  to  be,  I  will  suppose  their  case 
to  be  made  out :  and  still,  I  submit,  it  does  not  justify 
the  sceptical  estimate  which  it  habitually  fosters  of  the 
intellectual,  moral,  and  religious  intuitions  of  the  human 
mind.    For, 

(1)  Though  animal  sensation,  with  its  connected  in- 
stinct, should  be  the  raw  material  of  our  whole  mental 
history,  it  is  not   on    that   account  entitled  to  measure 


188    THE   PLACE    OF  MIND  IN  NATURE 

all  that  comes  after  it,  and  stand  as  the  bou-idary-line 
between  fact  and  dream,  between  terra  finna  and  "  airy 
nothing."  That  which  is  first  in  Time  has  no  necessary 
priority  of  rank  in  the  scale  of  truth  and  reality ;  and  the 
later-found  may  well  be  the  greater  existence  and  the 
more  assured.  If  it  is  a  development  of  Faculty,  and  not 
of  incapacity,  which  the  theory  provides,  the  process 
must  advance  us  into  new  light,  and  not  withdraw  us 
fi'om  clearer  light  behind  :  and  we  have  reason  to  confide 
in  the  freshest  gleams  and  inmost  visions  of  to-day,  and 
to  discard  whatever  quenches  and  confuses  them  in  the 
vague  and  turbid  beginnings  of  the  Past.  With  what 
plea  will  you  exhort  me,  "  If  you  would  rid  yourself  of 
intellectual  mysteries,  come  with  us,  and  see  the  stuff 
your  thought  is  made  of:  if  you  would  stand  free  of  ideal 
illusions,  count  with  us  the  medullary  waves  that  have 
run  together  into  the  flood-tide  of  what  you  call  your 
conscience :  if  you  would  shake  off  superstition,  look  at 
the  way  in  which  the  image  of  dead  men  will  hang  about 
the  fancy  of  a  savage,  or  the  personification  of  an  abstract 
quality  imposes  on  the  ignorance  of  simple  times  "  ?  Is 
our  wisdom  to  be  gathered  by  going  back  to  the  age  be- 
fore our  errors  ?  And  instead  of  consulting  the  maturity 
of  thought,  are  we  to  peer  into  its  cradle  and  seek  oracles 
in  its  infant  cries  ?  If  the  last  appeal  be  to  the  animal 
elements  of  experience,  we  can  learn  only  by  unlearning ; 
and  by  shutting  one  after  another  of  the  hundred  ideal 
eyes  of  the  finished  intellect,  we  shall  have  a  chance  of 
seeing  and  feeling  things  as  they  are.  If  nothing  is  to  be 
deemed  true  but  what  the  pre-human  apes  saw,  then  all 
the  sciences  must  be  illusory;  with  the  suicidal  result 
that,  with  them,  this  doctrine  of  Evolution  must  vanish 


AND  INTUITION  IN  MAN.  189 

too.  Or  if,  stopping  short  of  this  extreme  distrust  of  the 
acquired  intuitions,  you  make  a  reservation  in  favor  of 
the  new  visions  of  the  intellect,  what  right  can  you  show 
for  discharging  those  of  the  conscience?  The  tacit  as- 
sumption therefore  that  you  upset  a  super-sensual  belief, 
by  tracing  the  history  of  its  emergence  among  sensible 
conditions,  is  a  groundless  prejudice. 

(2)  Further,  the  question  to  be  determined  may  be 
presented  as  a  problem  in  physiology,  to  be  resolved  by 
corresponding  rules ;  What  is  t\iQ  function  of  certain  parts 
of  our  human  constitution,  viz.,  the  Reason  and  ^e  Moral 
Faculty  ?  Now  it  is  a  recognized  principle  that,  in  esti- 
mating function,  you  must  study  the  organ,  not  in  its 
rudimentary  condition,  before  it  has  disengaged  itself  from 
adjacent  admixtures  and  flung  off  the  foreign  elements, 
but  in  its  perfect  or  differentiated  state,  so  as  to  do  its 
own  work  and  nothing  else.  In  order  to  give  the  idea  of 
a  timepiece  to  one  who  had  it  not,  you  would  not  send  him 
to  one  of  the  curious  mediaBval  clocks  which  could  play  a 
tune,  and  fire  a  gun,  and  announce  the  sunrise,  and  mark 
the  tides,  and  report  twenty  miscellaneous  things  besides ; 
but  to  the  modern  chronometer,  simple  and  complete,  that, 
telling  only  the  moment,  tells  it  perfectly.  And  in  natural 
organizations,  to  learn  the  capabilities  and  project  of  any 
structure,  you  would  not  resort  to  the  embryo  where  it  is 
forming  but  not  working :  you  would  wait  till  it  was  born 
into  the  full  presence  of  the  elements  with  which  it  had 
to  deal ;  not  till  then  could  you  see  how  they  played  upon 
it,  and  what  was  its  response  to  them.  In  conformity 
with  this  rule,  whither  would  you  betake  yourself,  if  you 
want  to  measure  the  intrinsic  competency  of  our  in- 
tellectual faculty,  and  determine   what  its  very  nature 


190  THE   PLACE    OF  MIND   IN  NATURE 

giveB  it  to  know  ?  Would  you  take  counsel  of  the  nurse 
who  held  you  "  when  you  first  opened  your  eyes  to  the 
light,"  ^  or  otherwise  study  "  the  first  consciousness  in  any 
infant,"  "before  the  time  when  memory  commences,"^ 
and  disregard  every  thing  "subsequent  to  the  firat 
beginnings  of  intellectual  life"?*  On  the  contrary,  you 
would  avoid  that  soft  inchoate  promise  of  nature,  only 
nominally  bom,  where  the  very  structures  of  its  finer 
work  have  not  yet  set  into  their  distinctive  consistency 
and  form;  and  will  hold  your  peace  till  the  faculty  is 
awake  and  on  its  feet,  and  can  clearly  tell  you  what  it 
sees  for  itself,  and  what  it  makes  out  at  second-hand :  just 
as,  to  gauge  the  lunar  light,  you  must  have  patience  while 
the  thin  crescent  grows,  and  wait  till  the  full  orb  is  there. 
Still  less  can  you  take  the  report  of  the  Moral  Faculty 
from  the  confessions  of  the  cradle,  or  from  the  quarrels 
and  afiections  of  the  apes ;  the  conditions  being  not  yet 
present  for  the  bare  conception  of  a  moral  problem.  The 
most  that  can  be  asked  of  an  intuition  is,  that  it  shall 
keep  pace  with  the  cases  as  they  arise,  and  be  on  the  spot 
when  it  is  wanted  ;  and  if  you  would  know  what  provision 
our  nature  holds  for  dealing  with  its  Duty  and  inter- 
preting its  guilt,  you  must  go  into  the  thick  of  its  moral 
life,  and  bid  it  tell  you  what  it  sees  from  the  swaying 
tides  of  temptation  and  of  victory.  The  "  purity  "  of  in- 
tuitions is  not  "  pristine,"  but  ultimate  ;  cleared  at  length 
from  accidental  and  irrelevant  dilutions,  and  with  essence 
definitely  crystallized,  they  realize  and  exhibit  the  idea 
that  lay  at  the  heart  of  all  their  tentatives,  and  constitutes 
their  truth.    Am  I  told  that  it  is  hopeless  at  so  late  an 

1  Mill's  Examination  of  Hamilton,  3d  ed.  p.  172. 
a  Ibid.  8  Ibid ,  p.  160. 


AND   INTUITION  IN  MAN.  191 

hour  to  separate  what  is  an  indigenous  gift  from  what  is 
implanted  By  education  ?  I  reply,  it  no  doubt  requires, 
but  it  will  not  baffle,  the  hand  of  skilled  analysis ;  it  is  a 
difficulty  which,  in  other  cases,  we  find  it  not  impossible 
to  overcome ;  for  there  are  assuredly  instincts  and  affec- 
tions, strictly  original  and  natural,  that  make  no  sign  and 
play  no  part  till  our  maturer  years,  yet  which  are  readily 
distinguished  from  the  products  of  artificial  culture. 

If,  to  find  the  functions  of  our  higher  faculties,  we  must 
look  to  their  last  stage,  and  not  to  their  first,  we  at  once 
recover  and  justify  the  ideal  conceptions  which  the  exposi- 
tors of  Evolution  are  accustomed  to  disparage  as  romance. 
For  among  these  functions  are  present  certain  Intuitive 
beliefs  —  for  the  Reason,  in  Divine  Causality ;  for  the  Con- 
science, in  Divine  Authority ;  together  blending  into  the 
knowledge  of  a  Supreme  and  Holy  Mind.  These  august 
apprehensions  we  are  entitled  to  declare  are  not  the  illu- 
sions, but  the  discoveries,  of  Man;  who,  by  rising  into 
them,  is  bom  into  more  of  the  Universe  of  things  than 
any  other  being  upon  earth,  and  is  made  conscious  of  its 
transcendent  and  ultimate  realities.  If  these  trusts  are 
indeed  the  growth  of  ages,  fi-om  seeds  invisibly  dropped 
upon  the  field  of  time,  be  it  so ;  it  was  not  without  hand : 
there  was  a  JSower  that  went  forth  to  sow. 

II.  We  turn  now  to  the  Second  Form  of  doubt  raised 
by  the  doctrine  of  Evolution  :  under  which  it  weakens  our 
objective  trust  in  an  originating  Mind. 

A  naturalist  who  to  his  own  satisfaction  has  traced  the 
pedigree  of  the  human  intellect,  conscience,  and  religion, 
to  Ascidian  skin-bags  sticking  to  the  sea-side  rocks,  is  not 
likely  to  aiTcst  the  genealogy  there,  at  a  stage  so  little 
fitted  to  serve  as  a  starting-point  of  derivative  being.    Or, 


192  THE   PLACE    OF   MIND   IN  NATURE 

if  his  own  retreat  should  go  no  further,  others  will  take  up 
the  regressive  race,  and,  soon  passing  the  near  and  easy 
line  into  the  vegetable  kingdom,  will  work  through  its 
provinces  to  its  lichen-spotted  edge:  and,  after  perhaps 
one  shrinking  look,  will  dare  the  leap  into  the  dead  realm 
beyond,  and  bring  home  the  parentage  of  all  to  the  primi- 
tive elements  of  "  matter  and  force."  To  give  effect  to 
this  extension  over  the  universe  at  large  of  the  theory  of 
Evolution,  the  scientific  imagination  of  our  day  has  long 
been  meditating  its  projected  book  of  Genesis,  and  has 
already  thrown  out  its  special  chapters  here  and  there;  and 
though  the  scenes  of  the  drama  as  a  whole  are  not  yet 
arranged,  the  general  plan  is  clear:  that  the  Lucretian 
method  is  the  true  one ;  that  nothing  arises  for  a  purpose, 
but  only  from  a  power ;  that  no  Divine  Actor  therefore  is 
required,  but  only  atoms  extended,  resisting,  shaped,  mth 
spheres  of  mutual  attraction  and  repulsion ;  that,  with 
these  minima  to  begin  with,  a  growth  will  follow  of  itself 
by  which  the  maxima  will  be  reached ;  and  that  thus  far 
the  chief  and  latest  thing  it  has  done  is  the  apparition  of 
Mind  in  the  human  race  and  civilization  in  human  society, 
conferring  upon  man  the  melancholy  privilege  of  being,  so 
far  as  he  knows,  at  the  summit  of  the  universe. 

The  main  support  of  this  doctrine  is  found  in  two  argu- 
ments, supplied  respectively  by  physical  science  and  by 
natural  history ;  each  of  which  we  will  pass  under  review. 

i.  The  former  relies  on  the  new  scientific  conception  of 
the  Unity  of  Force.  When  Newton  established  the  com- 
position of  Light  in  his  treatise  on  Optics,  and  the  law  of 
Gravitation  in  his  Principia,  he  conceived  himself  to  be 
treating  of  two  separate  powers  of  nature,  between  wliich, 
quick  as  he  was  to  seize  unexpected  relations,  he  dreamt 


AND   INTUITION  IN  MAN.  193 

of  no  interchange.  Yet  now  it  is  understood  that  when 
collisions  occur  of  bodies  gravitating  on  opposite  lines,  the 
momenta  that  seem  to  be  killed  simply  burst  into  light 
and  heat.  When  Priestley's  experiments  detected  the 
most  important  chemical  element  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  fundamental  electrical  laws  on  the  other,  he  seemed  to 
move  on  paths  of  research  that  had  no  contact.  Yet,  in 
the  next  generation,  chemical  compounds  were  resolved  by 
electricity ;  which  again  turns  up  in  exchange  for  magnet- 
ism, and  can  pass  into  motion,  heat,  and  light.  To  see  the 
transmigration  of  natural  agency,  trace  only  through  a  few 
of  its  links  the  effect  of  the  sunshine  on  the  tropic  seas. 
So  far  as  it  warms  the  mass  of  waters,  either  directly  or 
through  the  scorched  shores  that  they  wash,  it  stirs  them 
into  shifting  layers  and  currents,  and  creates  mechanical 
power.  But  it  also  removes  the  superficial  film ;  and  thus 
far  spends  itself,  not  in  raising  the  temperature,  but  in 
changing  the  form  from  liquid  to  vapor,  and  so  altering  the 
specific  gravity  as  to  transfer  what  was  on  the  deep  to  the 
level  of  the  mountain-tops.  It  is  the  Pacific  that  climbs 
and  crowns  the  Andes,  resuming  on  the  way  the  liquid 
state  in  the  shape  of  clouds,  and  as  it  settles  crystallizing 
into  solid  snow  and  ice.  The  original  set  of  solar  rays 
have  now  played  their  part,  and  made  their  escape  else- 
where. But  there  is  sunshine  among  the  glaciers  too, 
which  soon  begins  to  resolve  the  knot  that  has  been  tied, 
and  restore  what  has  been  stolen.  It  sets  free  the  waters 
that  have  been  locked  up,  and  lets  their  gravitation  ha\'e 
its  play  upon  their  flow.  As  they  dash  through  ravines,  or 
linger  in  the  plains,  they  steal  into  the  roots  of  grass  and 
tree,  and  by  the  tribute  which  they  leave  pass  into  the  new 
shape  of  vital  force.    And  if  they  pass  the  homesteads  of 

9 


194  THE   PLACE    OF   MIND   IN  NATURE 

industry,  and  raise  the  food  of  a  civilized  people,  who  can 
deny  that  they  contribute  not  only  to  the  organic,  but  to 
the  mental  life,  and  so  have  run  the  whole  circuit  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest  phase  of  power  ?  That  the  return 
back  maybe  traced  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  is  shown 
by  every  effort  of  thought  and  will ;  which  through  the 
medium  of  nervous  energy  in  one  direction  sets  in  action 
the  levers  of  the  limbs,  and  in  another  works  the  laboratory 
of  the  organic  life,  and  forms  new  chemical  compounds,  of 
which  some  are  reserved  for  use,  while  others  pass  into  the 
air  as  waste.  Still  further :  all  doubt  of  identity  in  the 
force  which  masks  itself  in  these  various  shapes  is  said  to 
be  removed  by  the  test  of  direct  measurement  before  and 
after  the  change.  The  heating  of  a  pound  of  water  by  one 
degree  has  its  exact  mechanical  equivalent ;  *  and  a  given 
store  of  elevated  temperature  will  overcome  the  same 
weights,  whether  applied  directly  to  lift  them,  or  turned 
first  into  a  thermo-electric  cuirent,  so  as  to  perform  its 
task  by  deputy.^  The  inference  drawn  from  the  phenom- 
ena of  which  these  are  samples  is  no  less  than  this :  that 
each  kind  of  force  is  convertible  into  any  other,  and  un- 
dergoes neither  gain  nor  loss  upon  the  way ;  so  that  the 
sum-total  remains  for  ever  the  same,  and  is  only  differently 
represented  as  the  proportions  change  amongst  the  differ- 
ent forms  of  life,  and  between  the  organic  and  the  inor- 
ganic realms.  Hence  arises  the  argument  that,  in  having 
any  force,  you  have  virtually  all ;  and  that,  assuming  only 
material  atoms  as  depositories  of  mechanical  resistance  and 
momentum,  you  can  supply  a  universe  with  an  exhaustive 

1  Viz.,  the  fall  of  772  lbs.  through  a  foot.     See  Mr.  Jcule's  Experiments 
in  Grove's  Correlation  of  Physical  Forces,  p.  34,  5th  ed. 
2  See  Grove's  Correlation,  p.  255,  5th  ed. 


AND  INTUITION  IN  MAN.  195 

cosmogony,  and  dispense  with  the  presence  of  Mind,  ex- 
cept as  one  of  its  phenomena. 

To  test  this  argument,  let  us  grant  the  data  which  are 
demanded,  and  imagine  the  primordial  space  charged  with 
matter,  in  molecules  or  in  masses,  in  motion  or  rest,  as  you 
may  prefer.  Put  it  under  the  law  of  gravitation,  and  in- 
vest it  with  what  varieties  you  please  of  density  and  foi-m. 
Thus  constituted,  it  perfectly  fulfils  all  the  conditions  you 
have  asked;  it  presses,  it  moves,  it  propagates  and  dis- 
tributes impulse,  is  liable  to  acceleration  and  retardation, 
and  exhibits  all  the  phenomena  with  which  any  treatise  on 
Mechanics  can  properly  deal.  In  order,  however,  to  keep 
the  problem  clear  within  its  limits,  let  us  have  it  in  the 
simplest  form,  and  conceive  the  atoms  to  be  all  oi  gold ; 
then,  I  would  fain  learn  by  what  step  the  hypothesis  pro- 
poses to  effect  its  passage  to  the  chemical  forces  and  their 
innumerable  results.  Heat  it  may  manage  to  reach  by  the 
friction  and  compression  of  the  materials  at  its  disposal ; 
and  its  metal  universe  may  thus  have  its  solid,  liquid,  and 
gaseous  provinces ;  but,  beyond  these  varieties,  its  homo- 
geneous particles  cannot  advance  the  history  one  hair's 
breadth  through  an  eternity.  It  is  not  true,  then,  that  the 
conditions  which  give  the  first  type  of  force  suffice  to  pro- 
mote it  to  the  second ;  and  in  order  to  start  the  world  on 
its  chemical  career,  you  must  enlarge  its  capital  and  pre- 
sent it  with  an  outfit  of  heterogeneous  constituents.  Try, 
therefore,  the  effect  of  such  a  gift ;  fling  into  the  pre-exist- 
ing caldron  the  whole  list  of  recognized  elementaiy  sub- 
stances, and  give  leave  to  their  affinities  to  work :  we 
immediately  gain  an  immense  accession  to  our  materials 
for  the  architecture  and  resources  for  the  changes  of  the 
world,  —  the  water  and  the  air,  the  salts  of  the  ocean,  and 


196  THE   PLACE    OF   MIND   IN  NATURE 

the  earthy  or  rocky  compounds  that  compose  the  crust  of 
the  globe,  and  the  variable  states  of  magnetism  and  heat, 
which  throw  the  combinations  into  slow  though  constant 
change.  But  with  all  your  enlargement  of  data,  turn 
them  as  you  will,  at  the  end  of  every  passage  which  they 
explore,  the  door  of  life  is  closed  against  them  still ;  and 
though  more  than  once  it  has  been  proclaimed  that  a  way 
has  been  found  through,  it  has  proved  that  the  living  thing 
was  on  the  wrong  side  to  begin  with.  It  is  not  time,  there- 
fore, that,  from  the  two  earlier  stages  of  force,  the  ascent 
can  be  made  to  the  vital  level ;  the  ethereal  fire  yet  re- 
mains in  Heaven ;  and  philosophy  has  not  stretched  forth 
the  Promethean  arm  that  can  bring  it  down.  And  if,  once 
more,  we  make  you  a  present  of  this  third  phase  of  power, 
and  place  at  your  disposal  all  that  is  contained  beneath 
and  within  the  flora  of  the  world,  still  your  problem  is  no 
easier  than  before ;  you  cannot  take  a  single  step  towards 
the  deduction  of  sensation  and  thought :  neither  at  the 
upper  Umit  do  the  highest  plants  (the  exogens)  transcend 
themselves  and  overbalance  into  animal  existence ;  nor  at 
the  lower,  grope  as  you  may  among  the  sea-weeds  and 
sponges,  can  you  persuade  the  sporules  of  the  one  to 
develop  into  the  other.  It  is  again  not  true,  therefore^ 
that,  in  virtue  of  the  convertibility  of  force,  the  posses- 
sion  of  any  is  the  possession  of  the  whole :  we  give  you 
all  the  forms  but  one ;  and  that  one  looks  calmly  down  on 
your  busy  evolutions,  and  remains  inaccessible.  Is,  then, 
the  transmigration  of  forces  altogether  an  illusion  ?  By 
no  means ;  but  before  one  can  exchange  with  another,  both 
must  he  there  /  and  to  turn  their  equivalence  into  a  uni- 
versal formula,  all  must  be  there.  With  only  one  kind  of 
elementary  matter,  there  can  be  no  chemistry ;  with  only 


AND  INTUITION  IN  MAN.  197 

the  chemical  elements  and  their  laws,  no  life ;  with  only- 
vital  resources,  as  in  the  vegetable  world,  no  beginning  of 
mind.  But  let  Thought  and  Will  with  their  conditions 
once  be  there,  and  they  will  appropriate  vital  power ;  as 
life,  once  in  possession,  will  ply  the  alembics  and  the  test- 
tubes  of  its  organic  laboratory ;  and  chemical  affinity  is  no 
sooner  on  the  field  than  it  plays  its  game  among  the  cohe- 
sions of  simple  gravitation.  Hence  it  is  impossible  to 
work  the  theory  of  Evolution  upwards  from  the  bottom. 
If  all  force  is  to  be  conceived  as  One,  its  type  must  be 
looked  for  in  the  highest  and  all-comprehending  term; 
and  Mind  must  be  conceived  as  there,  and  as  divesting 
itself  of  some  specialty  at  each  step  of  its  descent  to  a 
lower  stratum  of  law,  till  represented  at  the  base  under 
the  guise  of  simple  Dynamics.  Or,  if  you  retain  the  forces 
in  their  plurality,  then  you  must  assume  them  all  among 
your  data,  and  confess,  with  one  of  the  greatest  living 
expositors  of  the  phenomena  of  Development,  that  unless 
among  your  primordial  elements  you  scatter  already  the 
germs  of  mind  as  well  as  the  inferior  elements,  the  Evo- 
lution can  never  be  wrought  out.^  But  surely  a  theory, 
which  is  content  simply  to  assume  in  the  germ  whatever 
it  has  to  turn  out  full-grown,  throws  no  very  brilliant  light 
on  the  genesis  of  the  Universe. 

ii.  The  second  and  principal  support  of  the  doctrine 
under  review  is  found  in  the  realm  of  natural  history,  and 
in  that  province  of  it  which  is  occupied  by  living  beings. 
Here,  it  is  said,  in  the  field  of  observation  nearest  to  us,  we 
have  evidence  of  a  power  in  each  nature  to  push  itself  and 
gain  ground,  as  against  all  natures  less  favorably  consti- 
tuted. There  is  left  open  to  it  a  certain  range  of  possible 
1  Lotze's  Mikrokosmiis,  B.  iv.  Kap.  2,  Band  ii.  33,  seqq. 


198  THE   PLACE    OF   MIND   IN  NATURE 

variations  from  the  type  of  its  present  individuals,  of  which 
it  may  avail  itself  in  any  direction  that  may  fortify  its  posi- 
tion ;  and  even  if  its  own  instincts  did  not  seize  at  once 
'the  line  of  gi*eatest  strength,  still,  out  of  its  several  tenta- 
tives,  all  the  feeble  results  would  fail  to  win  a  footing,  and 
only  the  residuary  successes  would  make  good  their  ground. 
The  ill-eqmpped  troops  of  rival  possibilities  being  always 
routed,  however  often  they  return,  the  well-armed  alone 
are  seen  upon  the  field,  and  the  world  is  in  possession  of 
"  the  fittest  to  live."  We  thus  obtain  a  principle  of  self, 
adjusting  adaptation  of  each  being  to  its  condition,  with- 
out resorting  to  a  designing  care  disposing  of  it  fi'om 
without;  and  its  development  is  an  experimental  escape 
from  past  weakness,  not  a  pre-conceived  aim  at  a  future 
perfection. 

I  have  neither  ability  nor  wish  to  criticise  the  particular 
indications  of  this  law,  drawn  with  an  admirable  patience 
and  breadth  of  research,  from  every  department  of  ani- 
mated nature.  Though  the  logical  structure  of  the  proof 
does  not  seem  to  me  particularly  solid,  and  the  dispropor- 
tion between  the  evidence  and  the  conclusion  is  of  neces- 
sity so  enormous  as  to  carry  us  no  further  than  the 
discussion  of  an  hypothesis,  yet,  for  our  present  purpose, 
the  thesis  may  pass  as  if  established ;  and  our  scrutiny 
may  be  directed  only  to  its  bearings,  should  it  be  tnie. 

(1)  The  genius  of  a  country  which  has  been  the  birth- 
place and  chief  home  of  Political  Economy  is  naturally 
pleased  by  a  theory  of  this  kind ;  which  invests  its  favorite 
lord  and  master,  Competition^  with  an  imperial  crown  and 
universal  sway.  But  let  us  not  deceive  ourselves  with 
mere  abstract  words  and  abbreviations,  as  if  they  could 
reform  a  world  or  even  farm  a  sheep-walk.     Competition 


AND    INTUITION  IN  MAN.  199 

is  not,  like  a  primitive  function  of  nature,  an  independent 
and  original  power,  which  can  of  itself  do  any  thing :  the 
term  only  describes  a  certain  intensifying  of  power  already 
there ;  making  the  difference,  under  particular  conditions, 
between  function  latent  and  function  exercised.  It  may 
therefore  turn  the  less  into  the  more ;  and  it  is  reasonable 
to  attribute  to  it  an  increment  to  known  and  secured 
effects ;  but  not  new  and  unknown  effects,  for  which  else 
there  is  no  provision.  It  gives  but  a  partial  and  superfi- 
cial account  of  the  phenomena  with  which  it  has  concern ; 
of  their  degi-ee ;  of  their  incidence  here  or  there ;  of  their 
occurrence  now  or  then :  of  themselves  in  their  charac- 
teristics it  pre-supposes,  and  does  not  supply,  tlie  cause. 
To  that  cause,  then,  let  us  turn.  Let  us  consider  what 
must  be  upon  the  field,  before  competition  can  arise. 

(2)  It  cannot  act  except  in  the  presence  of  some  possi- 
bility  of  a  better  or  wwse.  A  struggle  out  of  relative  dis- 
advantage implies  that  a  relative  advantage  is  within 
grasp,  —  that  there  is  a  prize  of  promotion  offered  for  the 
contest.  The  rivalry  of  beings  eager  for  it  is  but  an 
instrument  for  making  the  best  of  things  ;  and  only  when 
flung  into  the  midst  of  an  indeterminate  variety  of  alter- 
native conditions  can  it  find  any  scope.  When  it  gets 
there  and  falls  to  work,  what  does  it  help  us  to  account 
for  ?  It  accounts  certainly  for  the  triumph  and  survivor- 
ship of  the  better,  but  not  for  there  being  a  better  to  survive. 
Given,  the  slow  and  the  swift  upon  the  same  bourse,  it 
makes  it  clear  that  the  race  will  be  to  the  swift ;  but  it  does 
not  provide  the  fleeter  feet  by  which  the  standard  of  speed 
is  raised.  Nay  more ;  even  for  the  prevalence  of  the  better 
(  "  or  fitter  to  live  "  )  it  would  not  account,  except  on  the 
assumption  that  whatever  is  better  is  stronger  too  j  and  a 


200  THE   PLACE    OF   MIND   IN  NATURE 

universe  in  which  this  rule  holds  already  indicates  its 
divine  constitution,  and  is  pervaded  by  an  ideal  power 
unapproached  by  the  forces  of  necessity.  Thus  the  law 
of  "natural  selection,"  instead  of  dispensing  with  anterior 
causation  and  enabling  the  animal  races  to  be  their  own 
Providence  and  do  all  their  own  work,  distinctly  testifies 
to  a  constitution  of  the  world  pre-arranged  for  progress, 
externally  spread  with  large  choice  of  conditions,  and 
with  internal  provisions  for  seizing  and  realizing  the  best. 
On  such  a  world,  rich  in  open  possibilities,  of  beauty, 
strength,  affection,  intellect,  and  character,  they  are 
planted  and  set  free;  charged  with  instincts  eagerly 
urging  thera  to  secure  the  preferable  line  of  each  alter- 
native ;  and  disposing  themselves,  by  the  very  conditions 
of  equilibrium,  into  a  natural  hierarchy,  in  which  the 
worthiest  to  live  are  in  the  ascendant,  and  the  standard 
of  life  is  for  ever  rising.  What  can  look  more  like  the 
field  of  a  directing  Will  intent  upon  the  good?  Indeed, 
the  doctrine  of  "  natural  selection  "  owes  a  large  part  of 
its  verisimilitude  to  its  skilful  imitation  of  the  conditions 
and  method  of  Free-will ;  —  the  indeterminate  varieties 
of  possible  movement ;  the  presentation  of  these  before  a 
selective  power ;  the  determination  of  the  problem  by  fit- 
ness for  preference,  —  all  these  are  features  that  would 
belong  no  less  to  the  administration  of  a  presiding  Mind ; 
and  that,  instead  of  resorting  for  the  last  solution  to  this 
high  arbftraraent,  men  of  science  should  suppose  it  to  be 
blindly  fought  out  by  the  competing  creatures,  as  if  they 
were  supreme,  is  one  of  the  marvels  which  the  professional 
intellect,  whatever  its  department,  more  often  exhibits 
than  explains. 

(3)  But,  before  competition  .can  arise,  there  must  be, 


AND   INTUITION  IN  MAN.  201 

besides  the  field  of  favorable  possibility,  desire  or  instinct 
to  lay  hold  of  its  opportunities.  Here  it  is  that  we  touch 
the  real  dynamics  of  evolution,  which  rivalry  can  only 
bring  to  a  somewhat  higher  pitch.  Here,  it  must  be 
admitted,  there  is  at  work  a  genuine  principle  of  pro- 
gression, the  limits  of  which  it  is  difficult  to  fix.  Every 
being  which  is  so  far  individuated  as  to  be  a  separate 
centre  of  sensation,  and  of  the  balancing  active  sponta- 
neity, is  endowed  with  a  self-asserting  power,  capable,  on 
the  field  already  supposed,  of  becoming  a  self-advancing 
power.  Under  its  operation,  there  is  no  doubt,  increas- 
ing differentiation  of  structure  and  refinement  of  function 
may  be  expected  to  emerge;  nor  is  there  any  reason, 
except  such  as  the  facts  of  natural  history  may  impose, 
why  this  process  should  be  aiTested  at  the  boundaries 
of  the  species  recognized  in  our  present  classifications. 
Possibly,  if  the  slow  increments  of  complexity  in  the 
organs  of  sentient  beings  on  the  globe  were  all  mapped 
out  before  us,  the  whole  teeming  multitudes  now  peopling 
the  land,  the  waters,  and  the  air,  might  be  seen  radiating 
from  a  common  centre  in  lines  of  various  divergency,  and, 
however  remote  their  existing  relations,  might  group  them- 
selves as  one  family.  The  speculative  critic  must  here 
grant  without  stint  all  that  the  scheme  of  development 
can  ask ;  and  he  must  leave  it  to  the  naturalist  and  phys- 
iologist to  break  up  the  picture  into  sections,  if  they  must. 
But  then.  Why  must  he  grant  it  ?  Because  here,  having 
crossed  the  margin  of  animal  life,  we  have,  in  its  germ  of 
feeling  and  idea,  not  merely  a  persistent,  but  a  self-pro- 
moting force,  able  to  turn  to  account  whatever  is  below 
it;  the  mental  power,  even  in  its  rudiments,  dominating 
the  vital,  and  constraining  it  to  weave  a  finer  organism ; 

9* 


202  THE   PLACE    OT    MIND   IN  NATURE 

and,  for  that  end,  to  amend  its  application  of  the  chemical 
forces,  and  make  them  better  economize  their  command 
of  mechanical  force.  Observe,  however,  that,  if  here  we 
meet  with  a  truly  fruitful  agency,  capable  of  accomplishing 
difficult  feats  of  new  combination  and  delicate  equilibrium, 
we  meet  with  it  here  first ;  and  the  moment  we  fall  back 
from  the  line  of  sentient  life,  and  quit  the  scene  of  this 
eager,  aggi-essive,  and  competing  power,  we  part  company 
with  all  principle  of  progress ;  and  consequently  lose  the 
tendency  to  that  increasing  complexity  of  structure  and 
subtlety  of  combination  which  distinguish  the  organic 
from  the  inorganic  compounds.  Below  the  level  of  life, 
there  is  no  room  for  the  operation  of  "  natural  selection." 
Its  place  is  there  occupied  by  another  principle,  for  which 
no  such  wonders  of  constructive  adaptation  can  be  claimed ; 
—  I  mean,  the  dynamic  rule  of  Action  on  the  line  of  least 
resistance^  —  a  rule,  the  working  of  which  is  quite  in  the 
opposite  direction.  For  evidently  it  goes  against  the 
establishment  of  unstable  conditions  of  equilibrium,  and 
must  therefore  be  the  enemy  rather  than  the  patron  of 
the  complex  ingredients,  the  precarious  tissues,  and  the 
multiplied  relations,  of  sentient  bodies;  and  on  its  own 
theatre  must  prevent  the  pei*manent  formation  of  any  but 
the  simpler  unions  among  the  material  elements.  Ac- 
cordingly, all  the  great  enduring  masses  that  foim  and 
fill  the  architecture  of  inorganic  nature,  —  its  limestone 
and  clay,  its  oxides  and  salts,  its  water  and  air,  —  are 
compounds,  or  a  mixture,  of  few  and  direct  constituents. 
And  the  moment  that  life  retreats  and  surrenders  the 
organism  it  has  built  and  held,  the  same  antagonist  prin- 
ciple enters  on  possession,  and  sets  to  work  to  destroy  the 
intricate  structure  of  "proximate  principles"  with  their 


AND  INTUITION  IN  MAN,  203 

"compound  radicals."  With  life  and  mind  therefore 
there  begins,  whether  by  modified  affinities  or  by  removal 
of  waste,  a  tension  against  these  lower  powers,  carrying 
the  being  np  to  a  greater  or  less  height  upon  the  wing; 
but  with  life  it  ends,  leaving  him  then  to  the  perpetual 
gravitation  that  completes  the  loftiest  flight  upon  the 
ground.  Within  the  limits  of  her  Physics  and  Chemistry 
alone,  Nature  discloses  no  principle  of  progression,  but 
only  provisions  for  periodicity;  and  out  of  this  realm, 
without  further  resources,  she  could  never  rise. 

The  downward  tendency  which  sets  in  with  any  relaxa- 
tion of  the  differentiating  forces  of  life  is  evinced,  not  only 
in  the  extreme  case  of  dissolution  in  death,  but  in  the 
well-known  relapse  of  organs  which  have  been  artificially 
developed  into  exceptional  perfection  back  into  their  earlier 
<«ftate,  when  relieved  of  the  strain  and  left  to  themselves. 
Under  the  tension  of  a  directing  mental  interest,  whether 
supplied  by  the  animal's  own  instincts  or  by  the  control- 
ling care  of  man,  the  organism  yields  itself  to  be  moulded 
into  more  special  and  highly  finished  forms ;  and  a  series 
of  ascending  variations  withdraws  the  nature  from  its  orig- 
inal or  first-known  type.  But  wherever  we  can  lift  the 
tension  off,  the  too  skilful  balance  proves  unstable,  and  the 
law  of  reversion  reinstates  the  simpler  conditions.  Only 
on  the  higher  levels  of  life  do  we  find  a  self-working  prin- 
ciple of  progression :  and,  till  we  reach  them,  development 
wants  its  dynamics ;  and,  though  there  may  be  evolution, 
it  cannot  be  self-evolution. 

These  considerations  appear  to  me  to  break  the  back  of 
this  formidable  argument  in  the  middle ;  and  to  show  the 
impossibility  of  dispensing  with  the  presence  of  Mind  in 
any  scene  of  ascending  being,  where  the  little  is  becoming 


204  THE   PLACE    OF  MIND   IN   NATURE 

great,  and  the  dead  alive,  and  the  shapeless  beautiful,  and 
the  sentient  moral,  and  the  moral  spiritual.  Is  it  not  in 
truth  a  strange  choice,  to  set  up  "  Evolution^''  of  all  things, 
as  the  negation  of  Purpose  pre-disposing  what  i«  to  come  ? 
For  what  does  the  word  mean,  and  whence  is  it  borrowed  ? 
It  means,  to  unfold  from  within;  and  it  is  taken  fi-om  the 
history  of  the  seed  or  embryo  of  living  natures.  And 
what  is  the  seed  but  a  casket  of  pre-arranged  futurities, 
with  its  whole  contents  prospective^  settled  to  be  what 
they  are  by  reference  to  ends  still  in  the  distance.  If  a 
grain  of  wheat  be  folded  in  a  mummy-cloth  and  put  into  a 
catacomb,  its  germ  for  growing  and  its  albumen  for  feed- 
ing sleep  side  by  side,  and  never  find  each  other  out.  But 
no  sooner  does  it  drop,  thousands  of  years  after,  on  the 
wai-m  and  moistened  field,  than  their  mutual  play  begins, 
and  the  plumule  rises  and  lives  upon  its  store  till  it  is  able 
to  win  its  own  maintenance  from  the  ground.  Not  only 
are  its  two  parts  therefore  relative  to  each  other,  but  both 
are  relative  to  conditions  lying  in  another  department  of 
the  world,  —  the  clouds,  the  atmosphere,  the  soil ;  in  the 
absence  of  which  they  remain  barren  and  functionless  :  — 
and  this^  from  a  Cause  that  has  no  sense  of  relation !  The 
human  ear,  moulded  in  the  silent  matrix  of  nature,  is 
formed  with  a  nerve  susceptible  to  one  influence  alone, 
and  that  an  absent  one,  the  undulations  of  a  medium  into 
which  it  is  not  yet  born  ;  and,  in  anticipation  of  the  whole 
musical  scale  with  all  its  harmonies,  furnishes  itself  with 
a  microscopic  grand-piano  of  three  thousand  stretched 
strings,  each  ready  to  respond  to  a  different  and  definite 
number  of  aerial  vibrations :  —  and  this,  from  a  Cause  that 
never  meant  to  bring  together  the  inner  organ  and  the 
outer  medium,  now  hidden  from  each  other!    The  eye, 


AND  INTUITION  IN  MAN,  205 

shaped  in  the  dark,  selects  an  exclusive  sensibility  to 
movements  propagated  from  distant  skies ;  and  so  weaves 
its  tissues,  and  disposes  its  contents,  and  hangs  its  cur- 
tains, and  adjusts  its  range  of  motion,  as  to  meet  every 
exigency  of  refraction  and  dispersion  of  the  untried  light, 
and  be  ready  to  paint  in  its  interior  the  whole  perspective 
of  the  undreamed  world  without :  —  and  this,  from  a 
Cause  incapable  of  having  an  end  in  view!  Surely, 
nothing  can  be  evolved  that  is  not  first  involved ;  and  if 
there  be  any  thing  which  not  only  carries  a  definite  future 
in  it,  but  has  the  whole  ratio7iale  of  its  present  constitu- 
tion grounded  in  that  future,  it  is  the  embryo,  whence,  by 
a  strange  humor,  this  denial  of  final  causes  has  chosen  to 
borrow  its  name.  Not  more  certainly  is  the  statue  that 
has  yet  to  be,  already  potentially  contained  in  the  pre- 
conception and  sketches  of  the  artist,  than  the  stately  tree 
of  the  next  century  in  the  beech-mast  that  drops  upon  the 
ground;  or  the  whole  class  of  Birds,  if  you  give  them  a 
common  descent,  in  the  eggs  to  which  you  choose  to  go 
back  as  first;  or  the  entire  system  of  nature  in  any  germi- 
nal cell  or  other  prolific  minimum  whence  you  suppose  its 
organism  to  have  been  brought  out.  Evolution  and  Pro- 
spection  are  inseparable  conceptions.  Go  back  as  you  will, 
and  try  to  propel  the  movement  from  behind  instead  of 
drawing  it  fi*om  before,  development  in  a  definite  direc- 
tion towards  the  realization  of  a  dominant  scheme  of 
ascending  relations  is  the  sway  of  an  overruling  end.  To 
take  away  the  ideal  basis  of  nature,  yet  construe  it  by  the 
analogy  of  organic  growth,  will  be  for  ever  felt  as  a  con- 
tradiction. It  is  to  put  out  the  eyes  of  the  Past,  in  order 
to  show  ua  with  what  secure  precision,  amid  distracting 
paths,  and  over  chasms  bridged  by  a  hair,  it  selects  its 
way  into  the  Future. 


206        THE   PLACE    OF   MIND   IN  NATURE,   ETC, 

If  the  Divine  Idea  will  not  retire  at  the  bidding  of  our 
speculative  science,  but  retains  its  place,  it  is  natural  to 
ask,  what  is  its  relation  to  the  series  of  so-called  Forces  in 
the  world  ?  But  the  question  is  too  large  and  deep  to  be 
answered  here.  Let  it  suffice  to  say,  that  there  need  not 
be  any  overriding  of  these  forces  by  the  will  of  God,  so 
that  the  supernatural  should  disturb  the  natural ;  or  any 
supplementing  of  them,  so  that  He  should  fill  up  their 
deficiencies.  Rather  is  His  Thought  related  to  them  as, 
in  Man,  the  mental  force  is  related  to  all  below  it ;  turn- 
ing them  all  to  account  for  ideal  ends,  and  sustaining  the 
higher  equilibrium  which  else  would  lapse  into  lower 
forms.  More  truly,  yet  equivalently,  might  we  say,  these 
supposed  forces,  which  are  only  our  intellectual  interpre- 
tation of  classes  of  perceived  phenonema,  are  but  varieties 
of  His  Will,  the  rules  and  methods  of  His  detei-minate 
and  legislated  agency,  in  which,  to  keep  faith  with  the 
universe  of  beings.  He  abnegates  all  change ;  but  beyond 
which,  in  His  transcendent  relations  with  dependent  and 
responsible  minds.  He  has  left  a  glorious  margin  for  the 
free  spiritual  life,  open  to  the  sacredness  of  Personal 
Communion,  and  the  hope  of  growing  simiHtude, 


THE    RELATIONS 


ETHICS    AND    THEOLOGY. 


Bt  ANDREW   P.   PEABODY. 


THE    EELATIONS 


OF 


ETHICS     AND     THEOLOGY. 


MY  subject  is  the  mutual  relations  of  Ethics  and 
Theology. 

Ethics  is  the  science  of  the  Right ;  and  we  would  first 
inquire  whether  this  science  is  a  mere  department  of 
theology,  or  whether  it  has  its  own  independent  existence, 
sphere,  and  office.  Our  opening  question  then  is :  What 
is  the  ground  of  right  ?  Why  are  certain  acts  right,  and 
certain  other  acts  wrong?  Are  these  characteristics  inci- 
dental, arbitrary,  created  by  circumstances ;  variable  with 
time  or  place,  or  the  intelligence  of  the  agent ;  contingent 
on  legislation,  human  or  Divine  ?  Or  are  they  intrinsic, 
essential,  independent  of  command,  even  of  the  Divine 
command  ? 

We  can  best  answer  this  question  by  considering  what 
is  implied  in  existence.  Existence  implies  properties,  and 
properties  are  fitnesses.  Every  object,  by  virtue  of  its 
existence,  has  its  place,  pui-pose,  uses,  relations.  At  every 
moment,  each  specific  object  is  either  in  or  out  of  its  place, 
fulfilling  or  not  fulfilling  its  purpose,  subservient  to  or 
alienated  from  its  uses,  in  accordance  or  out  of  harmony 
with  its  relations,  and  therefore  in  a  state  of  fitness  or  of 


210  THE  RELATIONS 

unfitness  as  regards  other  objects.  Every  object  is  at  every 
moment  under  the  control  of  the  intelligent  will  either 
of  the  Supreme  Being  or  of  some  finite  being,  and  is  by 
that  will  maintained  either  in  or  out  of  its  place,  purpose, 
uses,  and  relations,  and  thus  in  a  state  of  fitness  or  unfit- 
ness as  regards  other  objects.  Every  intelligent  being,  by 
virtue  of  his  existence,  bears  certain  definite  relations  to 
outward  objects,  his  fellow-beings,  and  his  Creator.  At 
every  moment  each  intelligent  being  is  either  faithful  or 
unfaithful  to  these  relations,  and  thus  in  a  state  of  fitness 
or  unfitness  as  regards  outward  objects  and  other  beings. 
Thus  fitness  or  unfitness  may  be  predicated  at  every 
moment  of  every  object  in  existence,  of  the  vohtions  by 
which  each  object  is  controlled,  and  of  every  intelligent 
being  with  regard  to  his  voluntary  position  in  the  universe. 
Fitness  and  unfitness  are  the  ultimate  ideas  that  underlie 
the  terms  rigJit  and  wrong.  These  last  are  metaphorical 
terms:  right,  rectus,  straight,  upright,  according  to  rule, 
and  therefore ^^/  wrong,  xorxing,  distorted,  twisted  out  of 
place,  abnormal,  and  therefore  unfit.  We  are  so  consti- 
tuted that  we  cannot  help  regarding  fitness  with  esteem 
and  complacency;  unfitness,  with  disesteem  and  disap- 
proval, even  though  we  ourselves  create  it  or  imperson- 
ate it. 

Fitness  is  the  law  by  which  alone  we  have  the  knowledge 
of  sin,  by  which  alone  we  justify  or  condemn  ourselves. 
Duty  has  fitness  for  its  only  aim  and  end.  To  whatever 
object  comes  under  our  control  its  fit  place  or  use  is  due ; 
and  our  perception  of  that  due  constitutes  our  duty,  and 
awakens  in  us  a  sense  of  obligation.  To  ourselves  and  to 
other  beings  and  objects,  our  fidelity  to  our  relations  has 
in  it  an  intrinsic  fitness  j  that  fitness  is  their  and  our  due ; 


OF  ETHICS   AND    THEOLOGY,  211 

and  the  perception  of  that  due  constitutes  our  duty^  and 
awakens  in  us  a  sense  of  obligation. 

Conscience  is  the  faculty  by  which  we  perceive  fitness 
or  unfitness.  Its  functions  are  not  cognitive,  but  judicial. 
Its  decisions  are  based  upon  our  knowledge,  real  or  im- 
agined, from  whatever  source  derived.  It  judges  accord- 
ing to  such  law  and  evidence  as  it  has ;  and  its  verdict 
is  always,  relatively,  a  genuine  verdict  (verum  dictum), 
though  potentially  false  and  wrong  by  defect  of  our 
knowledge, — even  as  in  a  court  of  law  an  infallibly 
wise  and  incorruptibly  just  judge  may  pronounce  an 
utterly  erroneous  and  unjust  decision,  if  he  have  before 
him  a  false  statement  of  facts,  or  if  the  law  which  he  is 
compelled  to  administer  be  unrighteous.  What  we  call 
the  education  of  conscience  is  merely  the  accumulation 
and  verification  of  the  materials  on  which  conscience  is  to 
act ;  in  fine,  the  discovery  of  fitnesses. 

Pennit  me  to  illustrate  the  function  of  conscience  by 
reference  to  a  question  now  mooted  in  our  community,  — 
the  question  as  to  the  moral  fitness  of  the  temperate  use 
of  fermented  liquors.  Among  the  aborigines  of  Congo 
and  Dahomey,  there  being  no  settled  industry,  no  mental 
activity,  and  no  hygienic  knowledge  as  to  either  body  or 
mind,  it  seems  fitting,  and  therefore  right,  to  swallow  all 
the  strong  drink  that  they  can  lay  their  hands  upon ;  for 
it  is  fitted  to  produce  immediate  animal  enjoyment,  —  the 
only  good  of  which  they  have  cognizance.  Among  civil- 
ized men,  on  the  contrary,  intoxication  is  universally 
known  to  be  opposed  to  the  fitnesses  of  body  and  mind,  an 
abuse  of  alcoholic  liquors,  and  an  abuse  of  the  drinker's 
own  personality ;  and  it  is  therefore  condemned  by  all  con- 
sciences, by  none  more  heartily  than  by  those  of  its  vie- 


212  THE   RELATIONS 

tims.  But  there  still  remains  open  the  question  as  to  the 
moderate  use  of  fermented  liquors ;  and  this  is  not,  as  it 
is  commonly  called,  a  question  of  conscience,  but  a  mere 
question  of  fact,  —  of  fitness  or  unfitness.  Says  one  party, 
"Alcohol,  in  every  foi-m,  and  in  the  least  quantity,  is  a 
virulent  poison,  and  therefore  unfit  for  body  and  mind." 
Says  the  other  party,  "  Wine,  moderately  used,  is  health- 
ful, salutary,  restorative,  and  therefore  fitted  to  body  and 
mind."  Change  the  opinion  of  the  latter  party,  their  con- 
sciences would  at  once  take  the  other  side ;  and,  if  they 
retained  in  precept  and  practice  their  present  position, 
they  would  retain  it  self-condemned.  Change  the  opinion 
of  the  former  party,  their  consciences  would  assume  the 
ground  which  they  now  assail.  Demonstrate  to  the  whole 
community  —  which  physiology  may  one  day  do  —  the 
precise  truth  in  this  matter,  there  would  remain  no  differ- 
ences of  conscientious  judgment,  whatever  difference  of 
practice  might  still  continue. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  necessarily  inferred  that 
right  and  wrong  are  not  contingent  on  the  knowledge  of 
the  moral  agent.  Unfitness,  misuse,  abuse,  is  none  the 
less  wrong  because  the  result  of  ignorance.  If  the  result 
of  inevitable  ignorance,  it  does  not  indeed  imply  an  unfit- 
ness or  derangement  of  the  agent's  own  moral  powers. 
Yet  it  is  none  the  less  out  of  harmony  with  the  fitness  of 
things.  It  deprives  an  object  of  its  due  use.  It  perverts 
to  pernicious  results  what  is  salutary  in  its  purpose.  It 
lessens  for  the  agent  his  aggregate  of  good  and  of  happi- 
ness, and  increases  for  him  his  aggregate  of  evil  and 
of  misery.  In  this  sense  —  far  more  significant  than  that 
of  arbitrary  infliction — the  maxim  of  jurisprudence,  Ig^ 
norantia  legis  neminem  excusat  ("  Ignorance  of  the  law 


OF  ETHICS  AND    THEOLOGY.  213 

excuses  no  one "),  is  a  fundamental  principle  of  human 
nature. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  consider  the  relation  of  moral 
distinctions  to  theology.  In  the  first  place,  if  the  ground 
which  I  have  maintained  be  tenable,  ethical  science  rests 
on  a  basis  of  its  own,  wholly  independent  of  theology. 
Right  and  wrong,  as  moral  distinctions,  in  no  wise  depend 
on  the  Divine  will  and  law ;  nay,  not  even  on  the  Divine 
existence.  The  atheist  cannot  escape  or  disown  them. 
They  are  inseparable  from  existence.  For  whatever  exists, 
no  matter  how  it  came  into  being,  must  needs  have  its 
due  place,  affinities,  adaptations,  uses ;  and  an  intelligent 
dweller  among  the  things  that  are  cannot  but  know  some- 
thing of  their  fitnesses  and  harmonies,  and,  so  far  as  he  acts 
upon  them,  cannot  but  feel  the  obligation  to  recognize 
their  fitnesses,  and  thus  to  create  or  restore  their  harmonies. 
Even  to  the  atheist,  vice  is  a  violation  of  fitnesses  which  he 
knows  or  may  know.  It  is  opposed  to  his  conscientious 
judgment.  He  has  with  regard  to  it  an  inevitable  sense 
of  wrong.  I  can  therefore  conceive  of  an  atheist's  being  — 
though  I  should  have  little  hope  that  he  would  be  —  a 
rigidly  virtuous  man,  and  that  on  principle. 

But  while  atheism  does  not  obliterate  moral  distinctions, 
or  cancel  moral  obligation,  these  distinctions  are  a  refuta- 
tion of  atheism ;  and  from  the  very  fitness  of  things,  which 
we  have  seen  to  be  the  ground  of  right,  we  draw  demon- 
strative evidence  of  the  being,  unity,  and  moral  perfectness 
of  the  Creator:  so  that  the  fundamental  truths  of  theol- 
ogy rest  on  the  same  basis  with  the  fundamental  principles 
of  ethics.  Let  me  ask  you  to  pursue  this  argument 
with  me. 


214  THE  RELATIONS 

Every  object,  as  I  have  said,  must,  by  virtue  of  its 
existence,  have  its  fit  place  and  use ;  but,  in  a  world  that 
was  the  dice-work  of  chance,  there  would  be  myriads  of 
probabilities  to  one  against  any  specific  object's  attaining 
to  its  fit  place  and  use.  This  must  be  the  work  of  will 
alone.  If  chance  can  create,  it  cannot  combine,  co-ordi- 
nate, organize.  If  it  can  throw  lettei-s  on  the  ground  by 
the  handful,  it  cannot  an*ange  them  into  the  Iliad  or  the 
Paradise  Lost.  If  it  can  stain  the  sky  or  the  earth  with 
gorgeous  tints,  it  cannot  group  them  into  a  Madonna  or 
a  landscape.  Its  universe  would  be  peopled  by  straylings, 
full  of  disjointed  halves  of  pairs,  —  of  objects  thrown  to- 
gether in  such  chaotic  heaps  that  seldom  could  any  one 
object  find  its  counterpart  or  subserve  its  end. 

The  opposite  is  the  case  in  the  actual  world.  The  first 
discoveries  which  the  first  human  being  made  were  of  the 
fitnesses  of  the  objects  around  him  to  himself  and  to  one 
another.  With  every  added  year  his  microcosm  enlarged, 
80  that,  before  he  left  the  world,  he  had  within  his  cogni- 
zance a  range  of  fitnesses  and  uses  sufficient  to  guide  his 
own  activity,  and  to  enable  him  to  predict  its  results, 
together  mth  numerous  other  results  not  conthigent  on 
his  own  agency.  Beyond  this  microcosm,  indeed,  lay  a 
vast  universe  impenetrable  to  his  search,  in  which  he* 
could  trace  no  relations,  no  filaments  of  order;  in  whicli 
all  seemed  to  him  a  medley  of  chaotic  confusion,  mutu- 
ally intruding  systems,  clashing  and  jarring  forces.  On 
this  realm  of  the  unknown  man  has  ever  since  been 
making  perpetual  aggressions ;  and  every  step  of  his  prog- 
ress has  been  the  discovery  of  fitnesses,  relations,  reciprocal 
uses,  among  the  most  remote,  diverse,  and  at  first  sight 
mutually  hostile  objects,  classes,  and  systems.     Natural 


OF  ETHICS   AND    THEOLOGY.  215 

history,  physics,  and  chemistry,  are  the  science  of  mutual 
fitnesses  and  uses  among  terrestrial  objects.  Astronomy  is 
the  science  of  harmonies  among  all  the  worlds,  —  of  fit- 
nesses in  their  relations  and  courses  to  the  condition  of 
things  in  our  own  planet,  approximately  to  other  bodies 
in  the  solar  system,  and,  by  ascertained  analogies,  to  those 
distant  orbs  of  which  we  know  only  that  they  stand  and 
move  ever  in  their  order.  Geology  is  the  science  of 
mutual  fitnesses  in  former  epochs  and  conditions  of  our 
own  planet,  and  of  prospective  fitnesses  in  them  to  the 
needs  and  uses  of  the  present  epoch ;  so  that  by  harmonies 
which  run  through  unnumbered  aeons  we  are  the  heirs, 
and  sustain  our  industries  by  the  usufi-uct,  of  the  ages, 
the  great  moments  of  whose  history  we  are  just  beginning 
to  read.  Mathematical  science  reveals  geometrical  and 
numerical  fitnesses,  proportions,  and  harmonies,  which  are 
traced  alike  in  the  courses  of  the  stars  and  in  the  colloca- 
tion of  the  foliage  on  the  tree,  and  which  promise  one  day 
to  give  us  the  equation  of  the  curve  of  the  sea-shell,  of  the 
contour  of  the  geranium-leaf,  of  the  crest  of  the  wave. 
There  is  still  around  us  the  realm  of  the  unknown ;  yet 
not  only  are  daily  aggressions  made  upon  it,  but  science 
has  advanced  so  far  as  to  render  it  certain  that  there  is  no 
department  or  object  in  the  universe,  which  is  not  com- 
prehended in  this  system  of  mutual  fitnesses,  harmonies, 
and  uses. 

Now  consider  the  relation  of  organized  being  to  this 
system.  What  is  an  organ  ?  It  is  the  capacity  of  per- 
ceiving, choosing,  and  utilizing  a  fitness.  The  rootlets  of 
the  tree  by  the  river-side  perceive  the  adjacent  water, 
elongate  themselves  toward  it,  in  a  drought  make  con- 
vulsive and  successful  eflforts  to  reach  it;  while  the  corolla 


216  THE  RELATIONS 

of  the  heliotrope  perceives  the  calorific  rays,  and  tiinis 
toward  their  source  in  the  heavens.  The  organs  of  ^he 
plant  select  from  the  elements  around  it  such  substan  jes 
as  are  fitted  to  feed  its  growth,  and  appropriate  them  to 
its  use,  even  though  they  be  found  in  infinitesimal  pro- 
portions, in  masses  of  alien  substance.  In  all  this  there  is 
a  semi-self-consciousness,  corresponding,  not  indeed  to 
the  action  of  mind,  but  to  that  of  the  spontaneous  life- 
processes  in  intelligent  beings. 

The  animal  carries  us  a  step  higher.  His  instincts  are 
an  unerring  knowledge  of  fitnesses  and  uses  within  his 
sphere.  He  seeks  what  is  fitted,  shuns  what  is  unfitted  to 
his  sustenance  and  growth,  is  never  deceived  when  left  to 
his  own  sagacity,  and  fails  only  when  brought  into  anoma- 
lous relations  with  the  supenor  knowledge  of  man.  He 
lives,  merely  because  he  is  conscious  of  the  fitnesses  of 
nature,  and  yields  up  his  life  to  a  stronger  beast,  in  ac- 
cordance with  those  same  fitnesses  —  beneficent  still  — 
by  which  all  realms  of  nature  are  kept  fully  stocked,  yet 
never  overstocked,  with  healthy  and  rejoicing  life. 

The  fitness  which  thus  pervades  and  unifies  the  entire 
creation,  man  as  an  animal  perceives,  as  a  living  soul 
recognizes  and  comprehends ;  and  to  his  consciousness  it 
is  an  imperative  law,  obeyed  always  with  self-approval, 
disobeyed  only  with  self-condemnation.  Of  disobedience 
he  alone  is  capable,  yet  he  but  partially.  In  order  to 
live,  he  must  obey  in  the  vast  majority  of  instances ;  still 
more  must  he  obey,  if  he  would  have  society,  physical 
comfort,  transient  enjoyment  of  however  low  a  type ;  and 
the  most  depraved  wretch  that  walks  the  earth  purchases 
his  continued  being  by  a  thousand  acts  of  unintended 
yet  inevitable  obedience  to  one  of  voluntary  guilt.    Man's 


OF   ETHICS   AND    THEOLOGY,  217 

!aw  —  the  law  which,  in  violating  or  scorning  it,  he  can- 
not ignore  or  evade  —  is  the  very  same  fitness  which  runs 
through  all  inorganic  nature,  and  which  the  semi-conscious 
tree,  shrub,  or  flower,  the  imperfectly  self-conscious  bird, 
fish,  or  beast  uniformly  obeys. 

Now  can  chance  have  evolved  this  universal  fitness,  and 
the  sou's  that  own  their  allegiance  to  it?  Is  it  not  the 
clear  self-revelation  of  a  God,  one,  all-wise,  omnipotent? 
Has  it  any  other  possible  solution  ?  Bears  it  not,  in  in- 
scriptions that  girdle  the  universe  in  letters  of  light,  the 
declarations  of  the  Hebrew  seer,  "  In  the  beginning  God 
created  the  heavens  and  the  earth,"  and  "  The  Lord  our 
God  is  one  Lord"?  I  am  not  disposed  to  cavil  at  the 
argument  from  design  in  the  structure  and  adaptations  of 
any  one  organized  being ;  but  immeasurably  more  cogent 
is  this  argument  from  a  consenting  universe,  in  which 
filaments  of  fitness,  relation,  and  use  cross  and  recross  ono 
another  from  bound  to  bound,  from  sun  to  star,  from  star 
to  earth,  from  the  greatest  to  the  least,  from  the  order  of 
the  heavens  to  the  zoophyte  and  the  microscopic  animal- 
cule. In  the  human  conscience  I  recognize  at  once  the 
revelation  and  the  perpetual  witness  of  this  all-pervading 
adaptation,  this  universal  harmony.  Conscience  is  the 
God  within,  not  in  figure,  but  in  fact.  It  is  the  mode  in 
which  He  who  is  enshrined  in  all  being,  who  lives  in  all 
life,  takes  up  his  abode,  holds  his  perpetual  court,  erects 
his  eternal  judgment-seat,  within  the  human  soul. 

We  pass  to  the  consideration  of  the  moral  attributes  of 
the  Creator.  I  have  spoken  of  moral  distinctions  as  logi- 
cally separable  from  and  independent  of  the  Divine  na- 
ture. From  this  position  alone  can  we  establish  the 
holiness,  justice,  and  mercy  of  the  Divine  Being.     In  order 

10 


218  THE   RELATIONS 

to  show  this,  let  me  ask  your  attention  to  me  distinction 
between  necessary  and  contingent  truths ;  that  is,  between 
truths  which  have  an  intrinsic  validity,  which  always  were 
and  cannot  by  any  possibility  be  otherwise  than  true,  and 
truths  which  were  made  true,  which  began  to  be,  and 
the  opposite  of  which  might  have  been.  Mathematical 
truth  is  necessary  and  absolute  truth,  —  not  made  truth 
even  by  the  ordinance  of  the  Suprem'e  Being,  but  truth 
from  the  very  nature  of  things,  truth  co-eternal  with 
God.  Omnipotence  cannot  make  two  and  two  five,  or 
render  the  sum  of  the  angles  of  a  triangle  more  or  less 
than  two  right  angles,  or  construct  a  square  and  a  circle 
of  both  equal  perimeter  and  equal  surface.  In  our  con- 
ception of  mathematical  truth  we  are  conscious  that  it 
must  have  been  true  before  all  worlds,  and  would  be 
equally  true  had  no  substance  that  could  be  measured  or 
calculated  ever  been  created.  Every  mathematical  propo- 
sition is  an  inherent  property  or  condition  of  the  infinite 
space  identical  with  the  Divine  omnipresence,  or  of  the 
infinite  duration  identical  with  the  Divine  eternity. 

Moral  truth  is  of  the  same  order,  not  contingent,  but 
necessary,  absolute.  This  is  distinctly  declared  in  one  of 
the  most  sublime  bursts  of  inspiration  in  the  Hebrew 
Scriptures.  If  you  will  trace  in  the  book  of  Proverbs 
the  traits  of  Wisdom  as  personified  throughout  the  first 
nine  chaptei-s,  you  will  find  that  it  is  no  other  than  a 
name  for  the  inherent,  imnmtable,  eternal  distinction  be- 
tween right  and  wrong.  It  is  this  Wisdom,  who,  so  far 
from  confessing  herself  as  created,  ordained,  or  subject, 
proclaims,  "  Jehovah  possessed  me  in  the  beginning  of  his 
way,  before  his  works  of  old.  I  was  set  up  from  ever- 
lasting, from  the  beginning,  or  ever  the  earth  was.  , 


OF   ETHICS   AND    THEOLOGY,  219 

When  he  prepared  the  heavens,  I  was  there.  .  .  .  When 
he  appointed  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  then  I  was  by 
him,  AS  ONE  BROUGHT  UP  WITH  HIM;  and  I  was  daily 
his  delight,  rejoicing  always  before  him." 

It  is  only  on  the  principle  thus  vividly  set  forth  that 
we  can  affirm  moral  attributes  of  the  Supreme  Being. 
When  we  say  that  He  is  perfectly  just,  pure,  holy,  benefi- 
cent, we  recognize  a  standard  of  judgment  logically  inde- 
pendent of  his  nature.  "We  mean  that  the  law  of  fitness, 
which  He  promulgates  in  the  human  conscience,  and 
which  is  our  only  stanj3ard  of  right,  is  the  self-elected  law 
of  his  own  being.  Could  we  conceive  of  omnipotence  and 
omniscience  devoid  of  moral  attributes,  the  decrees  and  acts 
of  such  a  being  would  not  be  necessarily  right.  Omnipo- 
tence cannot  make  the  wrong  right,  or  the  right  wrong ; 
nor  can  it  indue  either  with  the  tendencies  of  the  other, 
80  that  the  wrong,  that  is,  the  unfitting,  should  produce 
ultimate  good,  or  the  right,  that  is,  the  fitting,  should  pro- 
duce ultimate  evil.  God's  decrees  and  acts  are  not  right 
because  they  are  his ;  but  they  are  his  because  they  are 
right.  On  no  other  ground,  as  I  have  said,  can  we  affirm 
moral  attributes  of  him.  If  his  arbitrary  sovereignty  can 
indue  with  the  characteristics  of  right  that  which  has  no 
intrinsic  fitness,  beauty,  or  utility,  then  the  affirmation  that 
He  is  holy,  or  just,  or  good,  is  simply  equivalent  to  the 
absurd  maxim  of  human  despotism,  "The  king  can  do 
no  wrong."  It  is  only  when  we  conceive  of  the  abstract 
right  as  existing  of  necessity  from  a  past  eternity,  and  as 
a  category  of  the  Divine  free-will  and  perfect  prescience, 
in  which  the  creation  had  its  birth  and  its  archetypes, 
that  holiness,  justice,  and  goodness,  as  applied  to  the 
Divine  character,  have  any  meaning. 


220  THE  RELATIONS 

We  thus  see  that  our  ethical  conceptions  underlie 
our  theology,  and  that,  however  explicit  the  words  of 
revelation  may  be  as  to  the  Divine  nature,  he  alone  can 
understand  them,  who  recognizes  in  his  own  heart  the 
absoluteness  and  immutableness  of  moral  distinctions. 
How  many  Christians  have  there  been  in  every  age  since 
the  pritnitive,  who,  in  using  the  terms  jttst  and  holy  with 
reference  to  the  Almighty,  have  employed  them  in  an 
entirely  different  sense  from  that  in  which  they  are  applied 
to  human  conduct,  and  with  regard  to  supposed  disposi- 
tions and  acts,  which  in  man  they  would  call  unjust  and 
cruel!  And  this  simply  because  they  have  attached  no 
determinate  meaning,  but  only  a  conventional  and  varia- 
ble sense  to  ethical  terms,  and  have  imagined  that  arbi- 
trary power  could  reverse  moral  distinctions,  or  that  God 
could  impose  on  man  one  law  of  right,  and  himself 
recognize  another. 

We  have  thus  seen  that  theology  is  indebted  to  the 
fundamental  principles  of  ethics  for  the  most  luculent 
demonstration  of  the  being,  omnipotence,  and  omni- 
science of  God,  and  for  the  clear  conception  of  his  moral 
attributes. 

We  will  now  consider  the  reciprocal  obligations  of 
ethics  to  theology ;  and,  in  the  first  place,  to  Natural  Re- 
ligion. Pure  theism  attaches  the  Divine  sanction  to  the 
verdicts  of  conscience,  makes  them  the  will,  the  voice  of 
God,  enforces  them  by  his  authority,  and  elevates  the  con- 
ception of  virtue  by  establishing  a  close  kindred  between 
the  virtuous  man  and  the  Ruler  of  the  universe.  And 
this  is  much,  but  not  for  many.  It  has  raised  some 
elect  spirits  to  a  degree  of  excellence  which  might  put 


OF  ETHICS  AND    THEOLOGY.  221 

Christians  to  shame.  It  has  conjoined  virtue  with  lofty 
devotion  and  earnest  piety  in  a  Socrates  and  a  Marcus 
Antoninus,  and  refined  it  into  a  rare  purity,  chasteness, 
and  tenderness  of  spirit  in  a  Plutarch  and  an  Epictetus. 
But  on  the  masses  of  mankind,  on  the  worldly  and  care- 
cumbered,  on  the  unphilosophic  and  illiterate,  it  has 
exerted  little  or  no  influence.  Moreover,  while  among 
the  virtuous  men  of  pre-Christian  times  and  beyond  the 
light  of  the  Jewish  revelation,  we  recognize  some  few  of 
surpassing  excellence,  we  find  not  a  single  ethical  system, 
or  body  of  moral  precepts,  which  does  not  contain  limita- 
tions, deficiencies,  or  enormities  utterly  revolting  to  the 
moral  sense  of  Christendom.  Thus  Plato  had  lofty  con- 
ceptions of  virtue,  but  there  are  directions  in  which  his 
precepts  give  free  license  to  lust  and  cruelty ;  and  even 
Socrates  sanctioned  by  his  unrebuking  intimacy  and  fond- 
ness the  leaders  and  ornaments  of  the  most  dissolute 
society  in  Athens. 

The  acme  of  extra-Christian  piety,  and  consequently  of 
moral  excellence,  is  presented  in  the  writings  and  lives 
of  the  later  Stoics,  whose  incorruptible  virtue  aflbrds  the 
only  relief  to  our  weariness  and  disgust,  as  we  trace  the 
history  of  Rome  through  the  profligacy  of  the  declining 
commonwealth  and  the  depravity  of  the  empire.  We 
find  here  the  Simeons  and  Annas  of  the  Pagan  world, 
who,  though  with  the  fleshly  arm  they  embraced  not  the 
Son  of  God,  needed  but  to  see  him  to  adore  and  love 
him.  Yet  in  nothing  was  Stoicism  more  faulty  than  in 
its  exalted  sense  of  virtue.  For  it  had  no  chanty  for  sin, 
no  tolerance  even  for  the  inferior  forms  of  goodness.  It 
was  the  ethics  of  the  unfallen.  It  proflered  no  hope  of 
forgiveness ;  it  let  down  no  helping  hand  from  the  heav- 


222  TUE  RELATIONS 

ens;  it  uttered  no  voice  from  the  eternal  silence;  it 
opened  no  Father's  house  and  arras  for  the  penitent.  In 
Moore's  "  Lalla  Rookh  "  the  Peri,  promised  forgiveness  and 
readmis^ion  to  Paradise  on  condition  of  bringing  to  the 
eternal  gate  the  gift  most  dear  to  heaven,  returns  in  vain 
wltli  the  last  drop  of  the  patriot's  blood.  Again,  when 
she  brings  the  expiring  sigh  of  the  most  faithful  human 
love,  the  crystal  bar  moves  not.  Once  more  she  seeks  the 
earth,  and  bears  back  the  tear  of  penitence  that  has  fallen 
from  a  godless  wretch  melted  into  contrition  by  a  child's 
prayer ;  and  for  this  alone  the  golden  hinges  turn.  Stoi- 
cism could  boast  in  rich  profusion  the  patriot's  blood,  could 
feed  the  torch  of  a  love  stronger  than  death ;  but  it  could 
not  start  the  penitential  tear,  —  it  failed  of  the  one  gift 
of  earth  for  which  there  is  joy  in  heaven. 

Let  us  rise,  then,  from  the  purest  philosophy  of  the  old 
world  to  Christianity  in  its  ethical  relations  and  offices. 

Christianity,  as  a  revelation,  covers  the  entire  field  of 
human  duty,  and  gives  the  knowledge  of  many  fitnesses, 
recognized  when  once  made  known,  but  undiscoverable 
by  man's  unaided  insight.  The  two  truths  which  lie  at 
the  foundation  of  Christian  ethics  are  human  brotherhood 
and  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 

1.  Human  brotherhood.  The  visible  differences  of  race, 
color,  culture,  religion,  customs,  are  in  themselves  dis- 
sociating influences.  Universal  charity  is  hardly  possible 
while  these  differences  occupy  the  foreground.  Slavery 
was  a  natural  and  congenial  institution  under  Pagan 
auspices,  and  the  idea  of  a  missionary  enterprise  tran- 
scends the  broadest  philanthropy  of  heathenism.  We 
find  indeed  in  the  ancient  moralists,  especially  in  the 
writings  of  Cicero  and  Seneca,  many  precepts  of  human- 


OF  ETHICS   AND    THEOLOGY,  223 

ty  toward  slaves,  but  no  clear  recognition  of  the  injustice 
inseparable  from  the  state  of  slavery ;  nor  have  we  in  all 
ancient  literature,  unless  it  be  in  Seneca  (in  whom  such 
sentiments  might  have  had  more  or  less  directly  a  Chris- 
tian origin),  a  single  expression  of  a  fellowship  broad 
enough  to  embrace  all  diversities  of  condition,  much  less 
of  race.^  Even  Socrates,  while  he  expects  himself  to 
enter  at  death  into  the  society  of  good  men,  and  says 
that  those  who  Uve  philosophically  will  approach  the 
nature  of  the  gods,  expresses  the  belief  that  worthy,  in- 
dustrious men  w^ho  are  not  philosophers  will,  on  dyings 
migrate  into  the  bodies  of  ants,  bees,  or  other  hard-work- 
ing members  of  the  lower  orders  of  animals. 

The  fraternity  of  our  entire  race  —  even  without  involv- 
ing the  mooted  question  of  a  common  human  parentage 
—  is  through  Christianity  established,  not  only  by  the 
Divine  fatherhood  so  constantly  proclaimed  and  so  lucu- 
lently  manifested  by  Jesus,  but  equally  by  the  unifying 
ministry  of  his  death  as  a  sacrifice  for  all,  and  by  his  part- 
ing commitment  of  "  all  the  world  "  and  "  every  creature  " 
to  the  propagandism  of  his  disciples.  Though  the  spirit 
of  this  revelation  has  not  yet  been  embodied  in  any  com- 
munity, it  has  inspired  the  life-work  of  many  in  every 
age ;  it  has  moulded  reform  and  guided  progress  in  social 
ethics  throughout  Christendom;  it  has  twice  swept  the 
civilized  world  clean  from  domestic  slavery ;  it  has  shaken 
every  throne,  is  condemning  every  form  of  despotism, 

1  The  verse  so  often  quoted  from  Terence,  "Homo  sum;  human!  nihil 
ic  rae  alienum  puto,"  will  probably  occur  to  many  as  inconsistent  with  my 
statement.  The  sentiment  of  this  verse  is,  indeed,  as  it  stands  by  itself, 
truly  Christian ;  but  in  the  Comedy  from  which  it  is  quoted,  so  far  from  hav- 
ing a  philanthropic  significance,  it  is  merely  a  busy-body's  apology  for 
impertinen'  Interference  with  the  concerns  of  his  neighbor. 


224  THE  RELATIONS 

m(>nopoly,  and  exclusiveness,  and  gives  clear  presage  of 
a  condition  in  which  the  old  pre-Christian  division  of 
society  into  the  preying  and  the  preyed-upon  will  be 
totally  obliterated. 

2.  The  immortality  of  the  soul,  also,  casts  a  light,  at 
once  broad  and  penetrating,  upon  and  into  every  depart- 
ment of  duty;  for  it  is  obvious,  without  detailed  state- 
ment, that  the  fitnesses,  needs,  and  obligations  of  a 
terrestrial  being  of  brief  duration,  and  those  of  a  being  in 
the  nursery  and  initial  stage  of  an  endless  existence,  are 
very  wide  apart,  —  that  the  latter  may  find  it  fitting  to 
do,  seek,  shun,  omit,  endure,  resign,  many  things  which 
to  the  former  are  very  properly  matters  of  indifference. 
Immortality  was,  indeed,  in  a  certain  sense  believed  before 
Christ,  but  with  feeble  assurance,  and  with  the  utmost 
vagueness  of  conception ;  so  that  this  belief  can  hardly  be 
said  to  have  existed  either  as  a  criterion  of  duty  or  as  a 
motive  power.  How  small  a  part  it  bore  in  the  ethics  of 
the  Stoic  school  may  be  seen,  when  we  remember  that 
Epictetus,  than  whom  there  was  no  better  man,  denied 
the  life  beyond  death;  and  in  Marcus  Antoninus  im- 
mortality was  rather  a  devout  aspiration  than  a  fixed 
belief.  In  the  Christian  revelation,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  eternal  life  is  so  placed  in  the  most  intimate  con- 
nection with  the  life  and  character  in  this  world  as  to 
cast  its  reflex  lights  and  shadows  on  all  earthly  scenes 
and  experiences. 

Christianity,  in  the  next  place,  makes  to  us  an  ethical 
revelation  in  the  person  and  character  of  its  Founder, 
exhibiting  in  him  the  very  fitnesses  which  it  prescribes, 
showing  us,  as  it  could  not  by  mere  precepts,  the  pro- 
portions and  harmonies  of  the  virtues,  and  manifesting 


OF  ETHICS   AND    THEOLOGY,  225 

the  unapproached  beauty,  nay,  majesty,  of  the  gentler 
vhtues,  —  virtutes  leniores,  as  Cicero  calls  them,  —  which 
in  pre-Christian  ages  were  sometimes  made  secondary, 
sometimes  repudiated  with  contempt  and  derision. 

It  is,  I  know,  among  the  commonplaces  of  the  rational- 
ism and  secularism  of  our  time,  that  the  moral  precepts 
of  the  Gospel  were  not  original,  but  had  all  been  antici- 
pated by  Greek  or  Eastern  sages.  This  is  not  literally 
and  w^holly  true ;  for  in  some  of  the  most  striking  of  the 
alleged  instances  there  is  precisely  the  same  difference 
between  the  heathen  and  the  Christian  precept  that  there 
is  between  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New.  The  former 
says,  "  Thou  shalt  not ; "  the  latter,  "  Thou  shalt."  Tho 
former  forbids;  the  latter  commands.  The  former  pre-i 
scribes  abstinence  from  overt  evil;  the  latter  has  for  its 
sum  of  duty,  "  Be  thou  perfect,  as  thy  Father  in  heaven  is 
perfect."  But  the  statement  which  I  have  quoted  has 
more  of  truth  in  it  than  has  been  usually  conceded  by 
zealous  champions  of  the  Christian  faith;  and  I  would 
gladly  admit  its  full  and  entire  truth,  could  I  see  suffi- 
cient evidence  of  it.  The  unqualified  admission  does  not 
in  the  least  detract  from  the  pre-eminent  worth  of  Him 
who  alone  has  been  the  Living  Law.  So  far  is  this  antici- 
pation of  his  precepts  by  wise  and  good  men  before  him 
from  casting  doubts  on  the  divinity  of  his  mission  upon 
earth,  that  it  only  confirms  his  claims  upon  our  confidence. 
For  the  great  laws  of  morality  are,  as  we  have  seen,  as 
old  as  the  throne  of  God ;  and  strange  indeed  were  it, 
had  there  been  no  intimation  of  them  till  the  era  of  their 
perfect  embodiment  and  full  promulgation.  The  Divine 
Spirit,  breathing  always  and  everywhere,  could  not  have 
remained,  without  witness  of  right,  duty,  and  obligation 
10* 


226  THE  RELATIONii 

in  the  outward  universe  and  in  the  human  conscience. 
So,  struggling  through  the  mists  of  weltering  chaos,  were 
many  errant  light-beams ;  yet  none  the  less  glorious  and 
benignant  was  the  sun,  when  in  the  clear  firmament  he 
first  shone,  all-illumining  and  all-guiding. 

But  in  practical  ethics  a  revelation  of  duty  is  but  a 
small  part  of  man's  need.  According  to  a  Chinese  legend, 
the  founders  of  the  three  principal  religious  sects  in  the 
Celestial  Empire,  lamenting  in  the  spirit-land  the  im- 
perfect success  which  had  attended  the  promulgation  of 
their  doctrines,  agreed  to  return  to  the  earth,  and  see  if 
they  could  not  find  some  right-minded  person  by  whose 
agency  they  might  convert  mankind  to  the  integrity  and 
purity  which  they  had  taught.  They  came  in  their 
wanderings  to  an  old  man,  sitting  by  a  fountain  as  its 
guardian.  He  recalled  to  them  the  high  moral  tone  of 
their  several  systems,  and  reproached  them  for  the  un- 
worthy lives  of  their  adherents.  They  agreed  that  he 
was  the  very  apostle  they  sought.  But  when  they  made 
the  proposal  to  him,  he  replied,  "  It  is  the  upper  part  of 
me  only  that  is  flesh  and  blood :  the  lower  part  is  stone. 
I  can  talk  about  virtue,  but  cannot  follow  its  teachings." 
The  sages  saw  in  this  man,  half  of  stone,  the  type  of  their 
race,  and  returned  in  despair  to  the  spu'it-land. 

There  is  profound  truth  in  this  legend.  It  indicates  at 
once  the  mental  receptivity  and  the  moral  inability  of 
man,  as  to  mere  precepts  of  vu-tue.  It  is  not  enough  that 
we  know  the  right.  We  know  much  better  than  we, do. 
The  words  which  Ovid  puts  into  the  mouth  of  Medea, 
Video  mdiora,  prohoque,  deteriora  sequor  ("I  see  and 
approve  the  better,  I  pursue  the  worse  ^),  are  the 
formula  of  universal  experience.    We,  most  of  all,  need 


OF  ETHICS  AND    THEOLOGY,  227 

enabling  power.  This  we  have  through  Christianity 
alone.  We  have  it :  1.  In  the  Divine  fatherhood,  as  ex- 
hibited in  those  genial,  winning  traits,  in  which  Jesus 
verifies  his  saying,  "  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the 
Father,"  —  a  fatherhood  to  feel  which  is  to  render  glad 
and  loving  obedience  to  the  Father's  will  and  word ;  2.  In 
the  adaptation  of  the  love,  sacrifice,  and  death  of  Christ 
to  awaken  the  whole  power  of  loving  in  the  heart,  and 
thus  by  the  most  cogent  of  motives  to  urge  man  to  live 
no  longer  for  himself^  but  for  him  who  died  for  him ;  3.  In 
the  assurance  of  forgiveness  for  past  wrongs  and  omissions, 
without  which  there  could  be  little  courage  for  future 
well-doing;  4.  In  the  promise  and  realization  of  Divine 
aid  in  every  right  purpose  and  worthy  endeavor ;  5.  In 
institutions  and  observances  designed  and  adapted  to 
perpetuate  the  memory  of  the  salient  facts,  and  to  renew 
at  frequent  intervals  the  recognitiop,.-€>^^dSE^fiB^tial 
truths,  which  give  to  our  religion 

''''""^-  (university; 

Thus,  while  right  and  obligatioK^isjb « 
revelation,  and  even  of  natural  rel igmiv^ttrisjOi!kA§y^lrt6ne 
enables  us  to  discern  the  right  in  its  entireness  and  its 
due  proportions ;  and  it  alone  supplies  the  strength  which 
we  need,  to  make  and  keep  us  true  to  our  obligations, 
under  the  stress  of  appetite  and  passion,  cupidity  and 
selfishness,  human  fear  and  favor. 

Morality  and  religion,  potentially  separable,  are  yet  in- 
separable  in  the  will  of  God,  under  the  culture  of  Christ. 
It  used  to  be  common  to  place  the  legal  and  the  evan- 
gelical element  in  mutual  antagonism.  Nothing  can  be 
more  profane  or  absurd  than  this.    That  which  is  not 


228     TEE  RELATIONS  OF  ETHICS  AND  THEOLOGY, 

legal  is  evangelical  only  in  name  and  pretence.  That 
which  is  not  evangelical  is  legal  to  no  pui-pose.  The 
religious  belief  or  teaching,  which  lays  not  supreme  stress 
on  the  whole  moral  law,  is  an  outrage  on  the  Gospel  and 
the  Saviour.  The  morality,  which  rests  on  any  other 
foundation  than  Jesus  Christ  and  his  religion,  is  built  on 
the  sand,  the  prey  of  the  first  onrush  or  inrush  of  wind 
or  wave.  "  What  therefore  God  hath  joined  together,  let 
not  man  put  asunder." 


CHRISTIAOTTY: 
WHAT  IT  IS  NOT,  AND  WHAT    IT    IS. 


By  G.  VANCE  SMITH. 


CHRISTIAIsriTY: 
WHAT  IT  IS  NOT,  AND   WHAT  IT  IS, 


TN  looking  back  upon  the  past  history  of  Christianity, 
■*-  it  is  easy  to  trace  the  existence  of  two  very  different 
ideas  of  the  nature  of  that  religion.  Their  influence  is 
discernible  in  what  may  be  termed  its  incipient  form,  in 
perhaps  the  earliest  period  to  which  we  can  ascend,  while 
it  has  been  especially  felt  during  the  last  three  hundred 
years,  as  also  it  materially  affects  the  position  and  rela- 
tions of  churches  and  sects  at  the  present  moment.  From 
obvious  characteristics  of  each,  these  ideas  may  be  respec- 
tively designated  as  the  ritualistic^  or  sacerdotal,  and  the 
dogmatic^  or  doctrinal.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add, 
that  the  two  have  been  constantly  intermingled  and 
blended  together,  acting  and  reacting  upon  each  other, 
and  either  supporting  or  else  thwarting  each  other  with 
singular  pertinacity.  Neither  of  them  is  found,  in  any 
instance  of  importance,  existing  wholly  apart  from  the 
other,  so  as  to  be  the  sole  animating  principle  of  a  great 
religious  organization.  The  nature  of  the  case  renders 
this  impossible.  Ritualistic  observances  cannot  be  ration- 
ally followed  without  dogmatic  beliefs.  The  former  are 
the  natural  exponents  of  the  latter,  which  indeed  they  are 


232  CHRISTIANITY: 

supposed  to  represent  and  to  symbolize.  Nor  can  doc- 
trinal creeds,  again,  wholly  dispense  with  outward  rites 
and  forms.  Even  the  most  spiritual  religion  requires 
some  outward  medium  of  expression,  if  it  is  to  influence 
strongly  either  communities  or  individuals.  It  must, 
therefore,  tacitly  or  avowedly  adopt  something  of  the 
dogmatic,  if  not  of  the  ritualistic,  idea,  although  this 
may  not  be  put  into  express  words,  much  less  formed 
into  a  definite  creed  or  test  of  orthodoxy. 

A  common  factor  of  the  greatest  importance  enters 
into  the  two  conceptions  of  Christianity  just  refen-ed  to, 
though  not  perhaps  in  equal  measure.  I  allude  to  the 
moral  element,  which  may  also  be  denoted  as  the  sense 
of  duty, -^  duty  towards  God  and  towards  man.  It  may, 
indeed,  be  said  to  be  a  distinguishing  glory  of  Christianity, 
that  it  can  hardly  exist  at  all,  under  whatever  outward 
form,  without  being  more  or  less  strongly  pervaded  by 
the  moral  spirit  of  which  the  ministry  of  Christ  aflbrds 
so  rich  and  varied  an  expression.  It  is  true,  however,  that 
the  ritualistic  idea  has  constantly  a  tendency  to  degen- 
erate into  a  mere  care  for  church  observances,  devoid  of 
any  high  tone  of  uprightness  and  purity  in  the  practical 
concerns  of  ordinary  life.  It  is  a  common  thing,  in  that 
great  religious  communion  of  Western  and  Southern 
Europe  which  is  so  strongly  animated  by  this  idea,  to  see 
people  in  the  churches  ceremoniously  kneeling  in  the  act 
of  prayer,  while  all  the  time  they  are  busy,  with  eager 
eyes,  to  follow  every  movement  in  the  crowd  around 
them.  In  certain  countries,  many  of  the  ritualistically 
devout,  it  is  well  known,  have  no  scruple  in  practising 
the  grossest  impositions  upon  strangers ;  a  statement 
which  is  especially  true  of  those  lands  that  in  modem 


WHAT  IT  TS   NOT,    AND   WHAT  IT  IS.       233 

times  have  been  governed  and  demoralized  beyond  others 
by  the  influence  of  the  priestly  class,  with  their  religion 
of  material  externalities.  A  Greek  or  an  Italian  brigand, 
it  is  said,  will  rob  and  murder  his  captive  with  a  peaceful 
conscience,  provided  only  that  he  duly  confesses  to  the 
priest,  and  obtains  his  absolution.  This  last  is  a  gross 
and,  happily,  a  rare  case.  But,  equally  with  the  more 
innocent  acts,  it  illustrates  the  natural  tendencies  of  ritu- 
alistic Christianity  among  various  classes  of  persons.  In 
ordinary  civilized  society,  such  tendencies  are  kept  power- 
fully in  check  by  other  influences.  Hence  it  is  not  to  be 
denied  that,  throughout  the  Christian  world,  devotional 
feeling  and  the  sense  of  duty  are  usually  deep  and  active 
in  their  influence,  and  that  the  practical  teachings  of 
Christ,  directly  or  indirectly,  exercise  a  potent  control, 
whatever  may  be  the  ritualistic  or  the  dogmatic  idea  with 
which  they  are  associated. 

The  ritualistic  conception  now  spoken  of  offers  us  a 
Christianity  which  secures  "  salvation,"  by  the  interven- 
tion of  a  priest,  —  a  man  who,  though,  to  all  outward 
appearance,  but  a  human  being  among  human  beings,  yet 
alleges,  and  finds  people  to  believe,  that  he  can  exercise 
supernatural  functions,  and  has  the  power  of  opening  or 
closing  the  gates  of  heaven  to  his  fellow-men.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  how  large  a  portion  of  Christendom  is  still 
under  the  influence  of  this  kind  of  superstition,  or  how 
pertinaciously  the  same  unspiritual  form  of  religion  is,  at 
this  moment,  struggling  to  establish  itself,  even  in  the 
midst  of  the  most  enlightened  modern  nations. 

Nor  is  it  necessary  here  to  argue,  with  any  detail, 
against  the  notion  of  its  being  either  inculcated  ujjon  us 
within  the  pages  of  the  New  Testament,  or  enforced  by 


2£4  CHRISTIANITY: 

any  legitimate  authority  whatever.  Probably  no  one 
who  cares  to  hear  or  to  read  these  words  would  seriously 
maintain  that  the  Gospel  of  Christ  consists,  in  any  essential 
way,  in  submission  to  a  priesthood,  fallible  or  infallible,  in 
the  observance  of  rites  and  ceremonies  or  times  and  seasons, 
or  in  a  particular  mode  or  form  of  church  government, 
whatever  doctrines  these  may  be  supposed  to  embody  or 
to  symbolize.  Such  things  have,  indeed,  variously  pre 
vailed  amono^  the  Christian  communities  from  the  beofin- 
ning.  Generation  after  generation  has  seen  priests,  and 
Popes,  and  patriarchs,  and  presbyters,  without  number. 
These  personages  have  decked  themselves  out  in  sacred 
garments,  assumed  ecclesiastical  dignities  and  powers,  and 
sought,  many  of  them,  to  heighten  the  charm  and  the 
efiicacy  of  their  worship  by  the  aid  of  altars  and  sacrifices, 
so  called,  of  prostrations,  incense,  lamps  and  candles,  and 
many  other  such  outward  accessories.  But  are  such 
things  to  be  reckoned  among  tlie  essentials  of  Christian 
faith  or  Christian  righteousness?  Does  the  presence  or 
the  blessing  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  to  the  humble,  penitent, 
waiting  soul  of  man,  depend  upon  any  thing  which  one 
calling  himself  a  priest  can  do  or  say  for  us  ?  Will  any 
one,  whose  opinion  is  worth  listening  to,  say  that  it  does  ? 
The  teaching  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles  is,  in  truth, 
remarkably  devoid  of  every  idea  of  this  kin<^  So  much 
is  this  the  case,  that  it  may  well  be  matter  of  astonish- 
ment to  find  men  who  profess  to  follow  and  to  speak  for 
them  holding  that  in  such  matters  there  can  be  only  ore 
just  and  adequate  Christian  course,  —  that,  namely,  which 
commends  itself  to  ^/ie/r  judgnient!  It  is  evident,  on  the 
contrary,  —  too  evident  to  be  in  need  of  serious  argument, 
—  that  the  very  diversities  of  opinion  and  practice  which 


WHAT   IT   IS   NOT,    AND   WHAT  IT   IS.        235 

prevail  in  the  world  —  as  expressed  by  such  names  as 
Catholic  and  Protestant,  Greek  Church  and  Latin  Church, 
Church  of  England  and  Church  of  Scotland,  Episcopalian, 
Presbyterian,  Congregational  —  prove  conclusively  that 
nothing  imperative  has  been  transmitted  to  us.  The 
great  Christian  brotherhood,  in  its  various  sections  and 
diverse  conditions,  has  manifestly  been  left,  in  these 
things,  to  its  own  sense  of  what  it  is  good  and  right  to 
follow.  Thus,  too,  if  we  will  not  close  our  eyes  to  the 
plainest  lessons  of  His  Providence,  the  Almighty  Father 
gives  us  to  understand  that  He  only  asks  from  us  the 
service  of  heart  and  life  that  is  "  in  spirit  and  in  truth ; " 
and,  consequently,  that  we  may  each  give  utterance  to 
our  thoughts  of  praise  and  thanksgiving,  to  penitence  for 
Bin,  to  our  prayer  for  the  divine  help  and  blessing,  in 
whatever  form  of  words,  through  Avhatevcr  personal 
agency,  and  with  whatever  accompaniment  of  outward 
rite  and  ceremony  we  may  ourselves  deem  it  most  becom- 
ing to  employ. 

The  second,  or  dogmatic,  conception  of  the  Gospel  has 
been  less  generally  prevalent  than  that  of  which  I  have 
been  speaking.  Yet,  ever  since  the  days  of  Luther,  not 
to  recall  the  older  times  of  Nicene  or  Athanasian  contro- 
versy, it  has  been  possessed  of  great  influence  in  some  of 
the  most  important  Christian  nations.  Protestant  Chris- 
tianity is  predominantly  dogmatic.  Under  various  forms 
of  expression,  it  makes  the  Gospel  to  consist  in  a  very 
definite  system  of  doctrines  to  be  believed ;  or,  if  not 
actually  to  consist  in  this,  at  least  to  include  it,  as  its  most 
prominent  and  indispensable  element.  We  are  informed, 
accordingly,  that  a  man  is  not  a  Christian,  cannot  be  a 
Christian,  and  perhaps  it  will  be  added,  cannot  be  "saved," 


236  CHRISTIANITY:^ 

unless  he  receives  certain  long  established  doctrines,  or 
rej)uted  doctrines,  of  Christian  faith. 

What  these  are,  it  is  not  necessary  here  minutely  to 
inquire.  It  is  well,  however,  to  note  with  care  that  there 
would  be  considerable  differences  of  opinion  in  regard  to 
them,  among  those  who  would  yet  be  agreed  as  to  the 
necessity  of  holding  firmly  to  the  dogmatic  idea  referred 
to.  A  Roman  Catholic,  of  competent  intelligence,  would 
not  by  any  means  agree  with  an  ordinary  member  of  the 
Anglican  church  equally  qualified.  Both  of  these  would 
differ  in  essential  points  from  a  member  of  the  Greek 
church  ;  and  the  three  would  be  almost  equally  at  variance 
with  an  average  representative  of  Scotch  Presbyterian 
Calvinism,  as  also  with  one  whose  standard  of  orthodoxy 
is  contained  in  the  Sermons,  and  the  notes  on  the  New 
Testament,  of  the  founder  of  Methodism.  Nay,  it  is  well 
known,  even  within  the  limits  of  the  same  ecclesiastical 
communion,  differences  so  serious  may  be  found  as  are 
denoted,  in  common  phrase,  by  the  terms  ritualistic  and 
evangelical^  and  by  other  familiar  words  of  kindred  import. 

Among  the  great  Protestant  sects  the  want  of  harmony 
under  notice  is,  doubtless,  confined  within  comparatively 
narrow  limits.  But  there  is  diversity,  not  to  say  discord, 
even  here.  No  one  will  dispute  the  fact  who  has  any 
knowledge  of  the  history  of  Protestant  theology,  or  who 
is  even  acquainted  with  certain  discussions,  a  few  years 
ago,  among  w^ell-known  members  of  the  English  Episcopal 
Church,  or  with  others,  of  more  recent  date,  among  Eng- 
lish Independents,  —  in  both  cases  on  so  weighty  a  subject 
as  the  nature  of  the  Atonement.^    Moreover,  in  the  same 

1  Between  Archbishop  Thomson,  in  Aids  to  Faith,  and  some  of  the  -vrri- 
ters  of  Tracts  for  Piiests  and  People ;  also  between  several  emisent  Inde- 
pendent Ministers,  in  the  Enylish  Independent  newspaper  (August,  1871). 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,   AND   WHAT  IT  IS.       237 

quarters,  varieties  of  opinion  are  notorious  on  such  topics 
as  Baptismal  regeneration,  the  authority  of  the  Priest- 
hood, the  inspiration  of  Scripture,  eternal  punishment, — 
all  of  them  questions  of  the  most  vital  importance,  in  one 
or  other  of  the  popular  schemes  of  the  doctrine. 

Now  the  indisputable  fact  referred  to  — the  existence 
of  this  most  serious  diversity  and  opposition  of  opinion 
and  statement  —  affords  the  strongest  reason  for  consid- 
ering it  an  error  of  the  first  magnitude  to  regard  Chris- 
tianity as  essentially  consisting  in  a  definite  system  of 
theological  dogmas.  For  is  it  possible  to  believe  that  a 
divine  revelation  of  doctrine,  such  as  the  Gospel  has  been 
so  commonly  supposed  to  be,  would  have  been  left  to  be 
a  matter  of  doubt  and  debate  to  its  recipients  ?  Admit- 
ting, for  a  moment,  the  idea  that  the  Almighty  Providence 
had  designed  to  offer  to  men  a  scheme  of  Faith,  the  right 
reception  of  which  should,  in  some  way,  be  necessary 
for  their  "salvation,"  must  we  not  also  hold  that  tliis 
would  have  been  clearly  made  known  to  them?  so  clearly, 
plainly  stated  as  to  preclude  the  differences  just  alluded 
to,  as  to  what  it  is  that  has  been  revealed  ?  It  is  impossi- 
ble, in  short,  on  such  an  assumption,  to  conceive  of  Chris- 
tianity, as  having  been  left  in  so  doubtful  a  position  that 
its  disciples  should  have  found  occasion,  from  age  to  age, 
in  councils  and  assemblies  and  conferences,  in  books  and 
in  newspapers,  to  discuss  and  dispute  among  themselves, 
often  amidst  anger  and  bitterness  of  spirit,  upon  the  ques- 
tion of  the  nature  or  the  number  of  its  most  essential 
doctrines.  Of  all  possible  suj^positions,  surely  this  is  the 
least  admissible,  the  most  extravagantly  inconsistent  with 
the  nature  of  the  case. 

To  this  consideration  must  be  added  another,  of  even 


238  CHRISTIANITY: 

greater  weight.  We  gain  our  knowledge  of  Christianity, 
and  of  the  Author  of  Christianity,  from  the  New  Testa- 
ment. And,*  in  this  collection  of  Gospels  and  Epistles,  it 
nowhere  appears  that  it  was  the  intention  of  Christ  or  of 
the  early  disciples,  to  offer  to  the  acceptance  of  the  future 
ages  of  the  world  a  new  and  peculiar  Creed,  a  Confession 
of  faith,  a  series  of  Articles  of  belief  in  facts  or  in  dogmas, 
such  as  the  speculative  theologian  of  ancient  and  of 
modern  times  has  usually  delighted  to  deal  with.  This  is 
nowhere  to  be  seen  in  the  New  Testament,  although  it 
speedily  made  its  appearance  when  the  Gospel  had  passed 
from  the  keeping  of  the  primitive  church  into  that  of 
Greek  and  Hellenistic  converts. 

The  only  thing  that  can  be  supposed  to  approach  this 
character,  within  the  sacred  books  themselves,  occurs  in 
such  phrases  as  speak  of  faith  in  Jesus  Chrisl,  or  also  of 
"believing"  in  the  abstract,  without  any  expressed  object. 
But  in  none  of  these  instances  can  a  dogmatic  creed  be 
reasonably  held  to  be  the  object  implied  or  intended. 
What  is  meant,  is  simply  belief  in  Jesus  as  the  Christ,^  as 
may  be  at  once  understood  from  the  circumstances  of  the 
case,  and  may  easily  be  gathered  from  a  comparison  of 
passages.  In  the  early  days  of  the  Gospel,  the  great 
question  between  the  Christians  and  their  Opponents  was 
simply  this,  whether  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  the  Christ  or 
not.  One  who  admitted  this,  and  received  him  in  this 
character,  had  faith  in  him,  and  might  be  an  accepted 
disciple.  One  who  denied  and  rejected  him,  as  the  multi- 
tudes did,  was  not,  and  could  not  be,  so  accepted.  A  man 
could  not,  in  a  word,  be  a  Christian  disciple,  without 
recognizing  and  believing  in  the  Founder  of  Christianity. 

I  Comp.  Matt.  xvi.  14-16;  Acts  ix.  22,  xvi.  31;  Rom.  iii.  22,  viii.  6,  9. 


WEAT   IT  TS   NOT,   AND    WHAT   IT  IS.        239 

This  explanation  of  the  nature  of  tlie  Faith  of  the  Gos- 
pel will  be  found  to  apply  throughout  the  New  Testament 
books.  An  illustration  may  be  seen  in  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  passages,  the  last  twelve  verses  of  St.  Mark's 
Gospel,  —  a  passage,  it  should  be  noted,  usually  admitted 
to  be  of  later  origin  than  the  rest  of  the  book.  Hero 
(v.  16)  we  read,  "  lie  that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall 
be  saved,  but  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned" 
(condemned).  The  meaning  is  explained  by  a  reference 
to  the  related  passage,  in  chapter  xxv.  of  the  first  Gos- 
pel. Here  we  learn  that  at  the  second  Advent,  shortly  to 
come  to  pass,  those  who,  having  received  Jesus  as  Lord, 
had  approved  themselves  by  their  works  obedient  and 
faithful  disciples,  would  by  him  be  recognized  as  his, 
and  admitted  to  share  in  the  blessings  of  the  promised 
kingdom  of  heaven :  those  who  had  not  done  so  should  be 
rejected  and  driven  from  his  presence.  It  is  clear  that 
there  is,  in  such  ideas,  no  sufficient  ground  for  supposing 
fjiith  or  belief  in  a  creed  or  a  dogma  to  have  been  intended 
by  the  writer  of  either  Gospel. 

Let  me  further  illustrate  my  meaning  by  a  brief  refer- 
ence to  an  ancient  and,  by  many  persons,  still  accepted 
formula  of  orthodox  doctrine.  This  professes  to  tell  us 
very  precisely  what  is  the  true  Christian  faith.  In  plain 
terms  it  says.  Believe  this,  and  this,  and  this :  believe  it 
and  keep  it  "whole  and  undefiled;"  unless  you  do  so, 
"  without  doubt "  you  shall  "  perish  everlastingly." 

Now  my  proposition  is,  that  this  kind  of  statement,  or 
any  thing  like  it,  is  not  to  be  met  with  in  the  teaching  of 
Christ,  or  in  any  other  2)art  of  the  New  Testament.  Had 
it  been  otherwise,  —  had  he  plainly  said  that  the  form  of 
doctrine  now  referred  to,  or  any  other,  was  so  essential, 


240  CHRISTIANITY: 

there  could  have  been  no  room  for  hesitation  among  those 
who  acknowledged  him  as  Teacher  and  Lord.  But  he  has 
manifestly  not  done  this,  or  any  thing  like  this.  Hence, 
as  before,  we  are  not  justified  in  thinking  that  the  religion 
which  takes  its  name  from  him,  and  professes  to  represent 
his  teaching,  consists,  in  any  essential  degree,  in  the 
acceptance,  or  the  profession,  of  any  such  creed  or  sys- 
tem of  doctrine,  exactly  defined  in  words,  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  churches,  —  whether  it  may  have  come  down 
CO  us  from  the  remotest  times  of  ante-Nicene  speculation, 
or  only  from  the  days  of  Protestant  dictators  like  Calvin 
or  Wesley;  whether  it  may  have  been  sanctioned  by  the 
authority  of  an  oecumenical  council,  so  called,  or  by  that 
of  an  imperial  Parliament,  or  only  by  some  little  body  of 
nonconformist  chapel-builders,  who,  by  putting  their  creed 
into  a  schedule  at  the  foot  of  a  tiiist-deed,  show  their  dis- 
tnist  of  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  and  their  readiness  to  bind 
their  own  personal  belief,  if  possible,  upon  their  successoi-s 
and  descendants  of  future  generations. 

We  may  then  be  very  sure  that,  if  the  Christian  Master 
had  intended  to  make  the  "salvation"  of  his  followers 
dependent  upon  the  reception  of  dogmas,  whether  about 
himself  or  about  Him  who  is  "  to  us  invisible  or  dimly 
seen"  in  His  "lower  works,"  he  would  not  have  left  it  to 
be  a  question  for  debate,  a  fertile  source  of  angiy  conten-« 
tion  or  of  heartless  pereecutions,  as  it  has  often  virtually 
been,  what  the  true  creed,  the  distinctive  element  of  his 
religion,  really  is.  The  very  fact  that  this  Jias  been  so 
much  disputed,  that  such  differences  do  now  so  largely 
exist  before  our  eyes,  forms  the  strongest  possible  testi- 
mony to  the  non-dogmatic  character  of  the  primitive  or 
genuine  Christianity.    The  same  fact  ought  to  rebuke  and 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,    AND    WHAT  IT  IS.        241 

warn  us  against  the  narrow  sectarian  spint  in  which  exist- 
ing divisions  originate,  and  which  is  so  manifestly  out  of 
haimony  with  "  the  spirit  of  Christ." 


n. 

This  absence  from  the  Christian  records  of  all  express 
instruction,  on  the  subjects  above  noticed,  cleariy  war- 
rants us  in  turning  away  from  any  merely  dogmatic  or 
ecclesiastical  system,  if  it  be  urged  upon  us  as  constituting 
the  substance,  or  the  distinctive  element  of  Christianity. 
We  are  thus  of  necessity  led  to  look  for  this  in  something 
else.  But  to  what  else  shall  we  turn  ?  In  what  shall  we 
find  an  answer  to  our  inquiry,  as  to  the  true  idea  of  the 
Christian  Gospel  ? 

The  reply  to  this  question  is  not  difficult.  The  true 
idea  of  Christ's  religion  can  only  be  found  m  the  life  and 
words  of  the  Master  himself.  And  these  it  may  well  bo 
believed,  in  their  simple,  rational,  spiritual,  practical  form, 
are  destined  to  assume  a  commanding  position  among 
Christian  men  which  they  have  never  yet  held,  and,  in 
short,  to  suppress  and  supersede  the  extravagancies  alike 
of  ritualism  and  its  related  dogmatism,  whatever  the  form 
in  which  these  may  now  prevail  among  the  churches  and 
fiects  of  Christendom. 

This  conclusion  is  readily  suggested,  or  it  is  irapera* 
tively  dictated,  by  various  expressions  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment itself.  "Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go?  Thou  hast 
the  words  of  eternal  life  : "  —  such  is  the  sentiment  attrib- 
uted to  the  Apostle  Peter  by  the  fourth  Evangelist. 
Paul  has  more  than  one  instance  in  which  he  is  equally 

11 


242  CHRISTIANITY: 

explicit :  "  Other  foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that  is 
laid,  which  is  Jesus  Christ;"  while  in  another  place  he 
writes,  "  If  any  man  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  he  is 
none  of  his."  Jesus  himself  speaks  in  terms  which  are 
even  more  decided,  when  he  declares,  "  I  am  the  Way, 
the  Truth,  and  the  Life."  ^ 

In  such  expressions  as  these  we  may,  at  the  least, 
plainly  see  the  sui-passing  importance,  to  the  judgment  of 
the  earliest  Christian  authorities,  of  the  personal  Chiist, 
of  his  teaching  and  example.  We  are  thus  emphatically 
taught,  in  effect,  that  we  must  look  to  Christ,  and  take 
Him,  in  his  life,  his  words,  his  devout  and  holy  spirit,  as 
the  impersonation  of  his  religion.  When  it  is  asked, 
then,  What  is  the  true  idea  of  Christianity,  no  better 
answer  can  be  given  than  by  saying,  it  is  Christ  himself; 
that  it  is  in  Christ  himself,  in  what  he  was  and  says  and 
does,  in  all  that  made  him  well  pleasing  in  the  sight  of 
God,  as  the  beloved  Son  of  the  Almighty  Father. 

What  Jesus  was,  in  his  visible  life  among  men,  we 
learn  from  the  Gospel  records.  We  leani  it  from  them 
alone ;  for  nowhere  else  have  we  information  res])ecting 
him  that  deserves  to  be  compared  with  theirs  in  onginal- 
ity  or  fulness  of  detail.  It  is  not  necessary  to  our  present 
purpose  to  enter  at  length  into  the  particulars  which  they 
have  preserved  for  us,  or  into  the  differences  between  the 
three  synoptical  Gospels  and  the  Fourth,  in  regard  to 
the  idea  which  they  respectively  convey  of  the  ministry 
of  Christ.  The  latter  Gospel,  it  may,  however,  be  ob- 
served, is  usually  admitted  to  be  the  last  of  the  four  in 
order  of  time.  It  is  also,  without  doubt,  the  production 
of  a  single  mind ;  and  cannot  be  supposed,  like  the  others, 
1  John  vi.  68;  1  Cor.  iii.  11;  Rom.  viii.  9;  John  xiv.  6. 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,    AND    WHAT   IT  IS.        243 

simply  to  incorporate,  with  little  change,  the  traditions 
handed  down  among  the  disciples,  for  perhaps  a  long 
series  of  years  before  being  committed  to  writing.  But 
whatever  accidental  characteristics  of  this  kind  may  be 
thought  to  belong  to  the  respective  Gospels,  they  all  agree 
in  the  resulting  impression  which  they  convey,  as  to  the 
high  character  of  Jesus.  And,  it  will  be  observed,  they 
do  this  very  artlessly,  without  any  thing  of  the  nature  of 
intentional  effort  or  elaborate  description.  They  state  ficts, 
and  report  words,  in  the  most  simple  manner,  often  with 
extreme  vagueness  and  want  of  detail.  It  thus,  however, 
results,  that  the  image  of  Christ  which  the  Evangelists, 
and  especially  the  first  three,  unite  to  give  us  is,  above  all 
things,  a  moral  image  only ;  in  other  words,  it  has  been 
providentially  ordered  that  the  impression  left  upon  the 
reader  is  almost  entirely  one  of  moral  qualities  and  of 
character. 

It  may  even  be  true,  as  some  will  tell  us,  that  we  have 
in  each  of  the  first  three  Gospels,  not  simply  the  produc- 
tions of  as  many  individual  wntcrs,  but  rather  a  growth 
or  a  compilation  of  incidents,  discourses  and  sayings 
from  various  sources,  and  drawn  especially  from  the  oral 
accounts  which  had  long  circulated  among  the  people, 
before  they  were  put  together  in  their  present  form. 
But  even  so,  the  result  is  all  the  more  striking.  The 
identity  and  self-consistency  of  the  central  object,  the 
person  of  Christ,  is  the  more  remarkable.  Such  qualities 
lead  us  safely  to  the  conclusion  that  one  and  the  same 
Original,  one  great  and  commanding  personality,  was  the 
true  source  from  which  all  were  more  or  less  remotely 
dei-ived.  Hence,  even  the  imperfect  or  fragmentary  char- 
acter of  the  Gospel  history  becomes  of  itself  a  positive 


244  CHRISTIANITY: 

evidence  for  the  reality  of  the  life,  and  the  peculiar  nature 
of  the  influence,  of  him  whose  career  it  so  rapidly,  and  it 
may  be  inadequately,  places  before  us. 

It  is,  however,  to  be  distinctly  remembered  that  we 
reach  the  mind  of  Christ  only  through  the  medium  of 
)ther  minds.  So  far  as  can  now  be  known,  no  words  of 
lis  writing  have  been  transmitted  to  our  time,  or  were 
jver  in  the  possession  of  his  disciples.  To  some  extent, 
therefore,  it  would  appear,  the  thoughts  of  the  Teacher  * 
may  have  been  affected,  colored  and  modified,  by  the 
peculiar  medium  through  which  they  have  come  down  to 
us.  Under  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  this  inference 
is  natural  and  justifiable.  It  is  one  too  of  some  impor- 
tance, inasmuch  as  it  directly  suggests  that,  in  all  proba- 
bility, the  actual  Person  whose  portraiture  is  preserved 
for  us  by  the  EvangeUsts  must  have  surpassed,  in  his 
characteristic  excellences,  the  impression  which  the  nar- 
ratives in  fact  convey.  The  first  generation  of  disciples 
were  evidently  men  who  were  by  no  means  exempt  from 
the  influence  of  the  national  feelings  of  their  people,  or  of 
the  peculiar  modes  of  thought  belonging  to  their  class. 
In  the  same  degree  in  which  this  is  true,  they  would  be 
unable  riglitly  to  understand,  and  worthily  to  appreciate 
the  teaching  and  the  mind  of  Christ.  This  remark  applies 
perhaps  more  especially  to  the  first  three  Gospels,  but  it 
is  not  wholly  inapplicable  to  the  Fourth.  Indeed,  the 
fact  refen-ed  to  comes  prominently  out  to  view  at  several 
points  in  the  Evangelical  narrative,  —  as  in  the  case  of 
Peter  rebuking  his  Master  for  saying  that  he  must  suffer 

1  The  term  Teacher  is  constantly  used  of  Christ  in  the  Gospels,  though 
usually  disguised  in  our  English  version  under  the  rendering  *'  Master  '• 
Comp.  e.g.   Mark  ix.  17,  38;  Luke  x.  25. 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,    AND    WHAT   IT  IS.        245 

and  die  at  Jerusalem ;  in  that  of  the  request  made  by  the 
mother  of  Zebedee's  children;  and  in  the  anticipations 
ascribed  by  the  first  three  Evangelists  to  Jesus  himself,  of 
his  own  speedy  return  to  the  earth,  —  anticipations  which 
are  recorded  very  simply,  and  without  any  corrective 
observation  on  the  part  of  the  writer.^ 

But,  whatever  the  hindrances  of  this  kind  in  the  way  of 
a  perfectly  just  estimation  by  the  modern  disciple,  the 
portrait  of  Christ  preserved  for  us  by  the  Evangelists  is, 
in  a  remarkable  degree,  that  of  a  great  Religious  Charac- 
ter. The  Christ  of  the  Gospels  is,  before  all  things,  a 
Spiritual  Being,  unpossessed,  it  may  even  be  said,  of  the 
personal  qualities  which  might  mark  him  off  as  the  prod- 
uct of  a  particular  age  or  people.  He  is,  in  large,  meas- 
ure, the  opposite  of  what  the  disciples  were  themselves, 
free  from  the  feelings  and  prejudices  of  his  Jewish  birth 
and  religion.  This  he  evidently  is,  without  any  express 
design  of  theirs,  and  by  the  mere  force  of  his  own  individ- 
uality. He  is  thus,  in  effect,  the  Christ  ^  not  merely  of 
his  immediate  adherents,  or  his  own  nation,  but  of  all 
devout  men  for  all  ages.  He  stands  before  us,  in  short,  so 
wise,  and  just,  and  elevated  in  his  teaching,  so  upright 
and  pure  in  the  spirit  of  his  life,  so  engaging  in  his  own 
more  positive  example  of  submission  to  the  overruling  will, 
and  touching  forbearance  towards  sinful  men,  that  innu- 
merable generations  of  disciples,  since  his  death,  have 
been  drawn  to  him  and  led  to  look  up  to  him  even  as 
their  best  and  highest  human  representative  of  the  Invisi- 
ble God  Himself. 

1  Matt.  xvi.  22,  xx.  20,  xxiv.  24r-36;  Mark  viii.  31-33,  x.  35-45,  xiii. 
24-30;  Luke  xviii.  31-34. 

2  That  is  to  say,  "  anointed,"  or  Kintj,  —  in  other  words.  Leader,  Teacher. 
Saviour  from  sin,  as  the  Gospels  also  expressly  term  him. 


246  CHRISTIANITY: 

It  is  very  probable,  however,  that  all  this  was  not  so 
fully  seen  by  those  who  stood  nearest  to  Jesus  during  his 
brief  and  rapid  career,  as  it  has  been  since.  At  least 
many,  even  the  vast  majority  of  his  day,  failed  to  perceive 
it.  And  yet,  to  a  Hebrew  reader  of  the  Gospels,  the 
greatness  of  his  character  could  be  summed  up  in  no  more 
exj)ressive  terms  than  by  claiming  for  him  that  he  was 
the  Christ ;  that  he  embodied  in  himself  the  moral  and 
intellectual  pre-eminence  associated  with  that  office.  In 
this  light  he  is  especially  represented  in  the  first  three 
Gospels.  In  John,  too,  we  have  substantially  the  same 
thing,  though  very  differently  expressed.  In  that  Gospel, 
he  is  also  the  Christ,  but  he  is  so  by  the  indwelling  of 
the  divine  Word.  "  The  Word  became  flesh  and  dwelt 
among  us,"  and  the  glory  which  had  been  seen  among 
men,  "full  of  grace  and  truth,"  was  the  glory  even  "as  of 
the  only-begotten  of  the  Father."  Probably  no  language 
could  have  been  used  that  would  have  conveyed  to  a 
reader  of  the  time  a  higher  idea  of  the  moral  and  spiritual 
qualities  of  any  human  being.  And  this  corresponds 
entirely  with  the  impression  given  by  other  writers  of  the 
New  Testament,  to  some  of  whom  Jesus  was  personally 
known,  —  by  Peter,  for  example,  by  James,  by  Paul,  and 
by  the  writer  to  the  Hebrews.  They  evidently  looked 
back  to  their  departed  Master,  and  up  to  the  risen  Christ, 
as  a  person  of  commanding  dignity  and  spiritual  power, 
and  this  not  merely  on  account  of  the  official  title  of 
Messiah  which,  rightly  or  wrongly,  they  applied  to  him, 
but  for  the  lofty  moral  virtues  with  which  his  name  was 
to  them  synonymous.^     He  "  who  did  no  sin,  neither  was 

J  1  Pet.  ii.  21,  seq.;  iv.  1-5, 13-16;  James  ii.  1,  seq.;  Gal.  vi.  22-24;  Eph. 
iv.  13-15  and jjossim ;  Phil.  i.  27,  seq.;  ii.  1-11;  Rom.  xiii.  14;  2  Cor.  iv. 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,    AND    WHAT  IT  IS.        247 

giiile  found  in  his  mouth,"  was,  without  doubt,  the  most 
perfect  example  which  they  could  cite  of  all  that  was 
acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God.  "  The  spirit  of  Christ," 
without  which  we  are  "none  of  his,"  could  be  nothing 
else,  and  nothing  less,  than  a  participation  in  Christ-like 
goodness ;  nor  can  it  therefore  possibly  be  wrong,  if  we 
too  lay  the  main  emphasis  of  the  Christian  profession 
precisely  here,  where  it  is  laid  by  the  apostles ;  if,  in  other 
words,  we  pass  over,  or  leave  out  of  sight,  as  altogether 
of  secondary  importance,  or  of  none,  those  various  and 
often  conflictinor  dofirmas  and  forms  and  "diversities  of 
administration,"  about  which  the  Christian  world  is  so 
sorely,  and  for  the  present,  so  irreparably  divided. 

The  character  of  Christ  stands  in  very  intimate  relations 
with  the  miraculous  powers  attributed  to  him  by  the 
Gospels.  Those  powers,  it  is  needless  to  say,  have  been 
seriously  called  in  question,  as  actual  facts  of  history,  by 
the  ciitical  investigations  of  recent  times.  Many  persons, 
it  may  be,  cannot  see,  and  will  not  admit,  that  their  value 
has  been  affected  by  the  inquiries  alluded  to.  To  such 
persons  the  miracles  will  naturally  retain  whatever  efficacy 
they  may  be  conceived  to  possess  as  evidence  of  the  di- 
vine, that  is,  supernatural,  claims  of  him  who  is  recorded 
to  have  wrought  them.  They  are  entitled  to  their  >wn 
judgment  in  the  case,  as  well  as  to  whatever  support  to 
Christian  faith  they  think  they  can  derive  from  such  a 
quarter.  At  the  same  time  other  inquirers  may  be  per- 
mitted to  think  differently.  If  the  lapse  of  time  and  the 
increasing  grasp  and  penetration  of  critical  knowledge 
necessarily  tend  to  lessen  the  certainty  of  the  miraculous 
element  of  the  Evangelical  history,  may  not  this  too  be  a 
part  of  the  providential  plan  —  contemplated  and  brought 


248  CHRISTIANITY: 

about  for  great  and  wise  ends  ?  May  it  not  be  that  now 
the  spiritual  man  shall  be  left  more  entirely  free  to  discern 
for  himself  the  simple  excellence  of  the  Christian  teaching 
and  example  ?  left  increasingly  without  that  support  from 
the  witness  of  outward  miracle  which  has  usually  been 
deemed  so  important,  and  which  is  unquestionably  found 
to  be  the  more  commonly  thus  estimated,  in  proportion 
as  Ave  descend  into  the  lower  grades  of  intelligence  and 
moral  sensibility.^ 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  this  be  true,  one  who  may 
thus  think  need  not  of  necessity  also  hold  that  the  miracles 
of  the  Gospels  did  not  take  place,  but  that  the  history 
relating  to  them  is  the  mere  product  of  weak  and  credu- 
lous exaggeration.  For,  in  truth,  the  ends  which  might 
be  subserved  by  such  manifestations  are  easily  understood. 
Occurrences  so  unwonted  and  remarkable  could  not  fail 
both  to  secure  the  attention  of  the  spectator,  and  make 
him  ponder  well  upon  the  words  of  the  miracle- worker, 
and  also  to  awaken  in  him  new  feelings  of  reverence 
towards  the  mysterious  Being  who  had  given  such  power 
to  men.  Thus  it  is  readily  conceivable,  that  a  miracle 
might  be  a  thing  of  the  highest  utility  to  those  who 
witnessed  it  and  to  their  generation.  But  then,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  not  to  be  alleged  that  such  occuiTcnces 
are  needed  now  to  show  us  that  God  is  a  living  Spirit  in 
the  world ;  or,  consequently,  that  religious  love  and  ven- 
eration are  in  any  way  dependent  upon  them,  either  as 
facts  beheld  by  ourselves,  or  as  incidents  recorded  to  have 
been  seen  by  others  who  lived  many  centuries  ago.  And, 
if  this  be  so,  surely  we  may  look  with  indifference  upon 

1  In  illustration  of  this  remark,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  mention  the 
"miracles"  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  all  ages. 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,    AND   WHAT  IT  IS.        249 

the  most  destructive  operations  of  literary  or  scientific 
criticism,  being  anxious  only,  and  above  all  things,  for  the 
simple  truth,  whatever  it  may  be. 

Again,  however,  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  posses- 
sion of  miraculous  power  may  have  been  for  Christ  him- 
self, not  less  than  for  those  who  saw  his  works,  of  the 
deepest  spiritual  import.  The  formation  of  a  character 
like  his  would  seem  peculiarly  to  require  the  training.that 
would  be  afforded  by  such  an  endowment.  We  know 
how,  with  ordinary  men,  the  command  of  unlimited  power 
is,  in  fact,  a  test  of  rectitude,  self-government,  unselfish- 
ness, of  the  most  trying  and,  it  may  be,  most  elevating, 
kind.  The  temptations  which  necessarily  accompany  it 
are  proverbial.  Was  Christ  exempt  from  that  kind  of 
moral  discipline,  that  supreme  proof  of  fidelity  to  God  ? 
Allowing,  for  a  moment,  what  the  narratives  directly  inti- 
mate, that  he  felt  within  himself  the  force  of  miraculous 
gifts,  and  the  capacity  to  use  them,  if  he  had  so  willed, 
for  purposes  either  of  personal  safety  or  of  political  ambi- 
tion;^ in  this,  we  may  see  at  once,  there  would  be  an 
end  to  be  served  of  the  greatest  moment  both  to  himself 
and  to  the  future  instruction  of  his  disciples.  By  such  an 
experience,  the  moral  greatness  of  his  example  might  be 
doubly  assured.  It  would  be  made  possible  to  him  to 
deny  and  humble  himself,  —  even,  in  apostolical  phrase,  to 
"empty"  himself  of  his  Messianic  prerogatives,  in  order 
the  better  to  do  the  Heavenly  Father's  will,  and,  pre- 
feiTmg  even  the  cross  to  a  disobedient  refusal  of  the  cup 
which  could  not  pass  from  him,  to  be  "made  perfect 
through  suffering,"  thus  showing  himself  worthy  to  be 
raised  up  at  last  to  be,  as  he  has  been,  the  spiritual  Lord 
of  the  Church. 

1  Matt.  iv.  1,  seq. 
11* 


250  amis  tianity  : 

This  idea  was,  in  fact,  a  familiar  one  to  Paul,  as  to 
others  of  the  Christian  writers.^  Its  literal  truth  is  en- 
forced by  the  consideration  of  the  strange  improbability 
that  one  by  birth  a  Galilean  peasant,  without  any  special 
gifts  or  powers  to  recommend  him  to  the  notice  of  his 
people,  should  yet  be  acknowledged  by  many  of  them  as 
the  promised  Messiah ;  should,  in  spite  of  an  ignominious 
death,  be  accepted  in  that  character  by  multitudes ;  and 
finally,  in  the  same  or  a  still  higher  character,  should  ac- 
quire the  love  and  reverential  homage  of  half  the  world. 

And  yet  it  may  remain  true  that,  as  time  passes,  this 
consideration  shall  lose  much  of  its  weight,  in  the  judg- 
ment of  increasing  numbers  of  earnest  inquirers.  They, 
accordingly,  will  cease  to  place  reliance  on  the  outward 
material  sign.  Jesus,  nevertheless,  may  still  be  to  them 
as  an  honored  Master  and  Friend,  whose  name  they  would 
gladly  cherish,  for  what  he  is  in  himself  To  those  who 
thus  think  his  character  and  words  will  appeal  by  their 
own  intrinsic  worth.  He  will  be  Teacher,  Saviour,  Spir- 
itual Lord,  simply  by  the  inherent  grace  and  truth  spoken 
of  by  the  Evangelist  of  old. 

If  this  be  the  destined  end,  we  may  gladly  acknowledge 
the  providential  guiding  even  in  this ;  and  we  shall  cer- 
tainly guard  ourselves  against  judging  harsh  or  unchari- 
table judgment  in  reference  to  those  who  on  this  subject 
may  not  see  as  we  see,  or  feel  as  we  feel ;  —  who,  never- 
theless, in  thought  and  deed  and  aspiration,  may  not  be 
less  faithful  to  Truth  and  Right,  or  less  loyally  obedient 
to  all  that  is  seen  to  be  highest  and  best  in  Christ  himself. 

1  2  C<r  viii.  9;  Eph.  i.  20-23;  PhU.  U.  5-11;  Heb.  ii.  9,  10,  18;  1  Pet. 
u.  21. 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,   AND    WHAT  IT  IS.        251 

III. 

Christ,  then,  I  repeat,  thus  standing  before  us  m 
the  Evangelical  records  of  his  ministry,  is  the  imper- 
sonation of  his  religion.  What  we  see  in  Him  is  Chris- 
tianity. Or,  if  it  be  not  so,  where  else  shall  we  look  with 
the  hope  to  find  it?  Who  else  has  ever  had  a  true 
authority  to  place  before  us  a  more  perfect  idea,  or  to  tell 
us  more  exactly  what  the  Gospel  is  ?  The  Chicrch,  indeed, 
some  will  interpose,  has  such  authority!  But  examine 
this  statement,  and  its  untenable  character  speedily 
appears.  The  Church  at  any  given  moment  is,  and  has 
been,  simply  a  body  of  fallible  mortals,  like  ourselves.  If 
the  Christian  men  of  this  present  day  cannot  suppose 
themselves  to  be  preserved  from  intellectual  error  in 
matters  of  religion,  neither  can  we  think  the  Christian 
men  of  the  past  to  have  been  more  highly  privileged.  In 
fact,  it  must  be  added,  as  we  ascend  into  the  darker 
periods  of  Church  history,  we  come  upon  the  most  un- 
deniable traces  of  ignorance,  misunderstanding,  world- 
liness  and  folly,  on  the  part  of  the  ecclesiastics  of  the 
early  and  the  middle  ages,  such  as  deprive  their  judgments 
on  the  subject  before  us  of  all  right  or  claim  to  unques- 
tioned acceptance.  Let  any  one  read,  for  example,  the 
accounts  given  by  trustworthy  historians^  of  that  great 
assembly  of  the  Church  which  produced  the  Nicene 
Creed.  Will  any  one  allege  that  in  the  passion  and  prej- 
udice, the  smallness  of  knowledge,  the  subtlety  of  specu- 
lation, and  narrowness  of  heart,  pervading  the  majority 
of  that  assembly,  the  Divine  Spirit  was  peculiarly  present 
to  dictate  or  guide  the  decision  arrived  at,  and  make  it 
1  E.g.,  in  Dean  Stanley's  History  of  the  Eastern  Church. 


252  CHRISTIANITY: 

worthy  of  the  blind  adhesion  of  future  Christian  genera- 
tions ?  And,  if  we  cannot  thus  admit  the  peculiar  idea 
of  Christianity  t/wre  approved,  it  will  surely  be  in  vain  to 
look  to  any  similar  quarter,  either  of  the  past  or  of  the 
present,  for  what  shall  supersede  the  living  "  grace  and 
truth,"  seen  in  Christ  himself. 

This  conclusion  is  greatly  strengthened  by  the  briefest 
reference  to  the  negative  results  of  unbelief  and  irreligion, 
so  prevalent  in  those  countries  which  have  been  the 
longest  under  the  influence  of  the  old  ritualistic  idea  of 
the  Church  and  the  priesthood.  Positively  speaking,  this 
idea,  it  is  needless  to  add,  has  largely  failed  in  almost 
every  thing  except  the  encouragement  among  the  people 
of  the  grossest  superstitions^  —  superstitions  of  which 
there  is  no  trace  whatever  in  immediate  connection  with 
the  Christian  Master.  Not,  however,  to  dwell  in  detail 
on  this  unpromising  theme,  let  us  rather  turn  to  the  con- 
siderations by  which  our  leading  position  may  be  con- 
firmed ;  from  which  too  we  may  leai-n  that  a  better  future 
is  yet  in  store  for  us. 

The  experience  of  past  ages,  the  existing  sectarian 
divisions  of  Christendom,  the  errors  and  superstitions 
involved  in  the  grosser  assumptions  of  Church  authority, 
all  unite  to  compel  us  to  the  conclusion  of  the  essentially 
erroneous  character  of  the  old  ritualistic  and  dogmatio 
conceptions  of  the  nature  of  the  GospeL  They  show  us 
not  only  that  dogmas  and  rites  about  which  the  most 

1  A  good  authority  has  recently  observed,  *'  Catholicism,  substituted  for 
Christ,  has  turned  the  thought  of  Southern  Europe  to  simple  Infidelity, 
if  not  to  Atheism:  let  us  take  heed  that  Protestantism  does  not  bring  about 
the  same  thing  in  another  way  in  the  North."  — Bishop  Ewing,  in  a  Letter 
to  the  Spectator  newspaper,  April  8,  1870.  The  remark  here  quoted  is  of 
much  wider  application  than  the  Bishop  liimself  would  probably  admit  1 


WHAT  IT  LS   NOT,   AND    WHAT   IT  IS.       253 

eamest  men  are  so  utterly  at  variance  cannot  possibly  be 
of  the  essence  of  Christianity,  but  further  that  the  latter 
is  nowhere  to  be  found  excej3t  in  Him  whom  in  spite  of 
diversities  all  alike  agree  to  hold  in  honor.  And,  in 
truth,  his  life,  brief  and  fleeting  as  it  was,  may  well  be 
said  to  constitute  the  Christian  revelation.  That  it  does 
60,  and  was  intended  to  do  so,  may,  as  already  observed, 
be  seen  better  in  our  day,  than  it  was  by  the  earliest 
disciples.  Their  thoughts  were  preoccupied,  their  vision 
obscured,  by  various  influences  which  prevented  them 
from  clearly  discerning  the  one  thing  needful.  The  tem- 
poral kingdom  of  their  Master  for  which  they  were, 
many  of  them,  so  eagerly  looking ;  his  speedy  return  to 
judge  the  world,  —  an  expectation  of  w^hich  there  are  so 
many  traces  in  Gospels  and  Epistles  alike ;  the  great  and 
urgent  question  of  the  Law  and  its  claims,  with  that  of 
the  admission  of  the  Gentiles  to  the  faith  of  Christ  with- 
out the  previous  adoption  of  Judaism  ;  —  such  thoughts 
and  such  cares  as  these  largely  engaged  and  filled  the 
minds  of  the  disciples,  within  the  limits  of  the  period  to 
which  the  origin  of  the  principal  New  Testament  books 
must  be  assigned.  After  the  close  of  that  period,  fresh 
subjects  of  controversial  interest  continually  arose,  until 
these  were  gradually  overshadowed  by  the  rising  author- 
ity of  the  Church  and  the  later  growth  of  sacerdotal 
power,  followed  in  due  course  of  time  by  the  grosser 
corruptions  of  the  primitive  Gospel  which  marked  the 
Christianity  of  the  darker  ages,  and  which  have  by  no 
means  as  yet  spent  their  power.  Thus  has  it  pleased  the 
Great  Disposer  that  men  should  be  led  forward  to  truth 
and  light  through  error  and  darkness.  .  Even  as  the 
Hebrews  of  old  were  gradually  brought  by  many  centuries 


254  CHRISTIANITY:  ' 

of  experience,  and  in  the  midst  of  impei-fections  and 
backslidings  innumerable,  to  their  final  recognition  of 
the  One  Jehovah,  so  have  the  Christian  generations  been 
slowly  learning  and  unlearning  according  as  their  own 
condition  and  capacities  allowed.  Thus  the  great  devel- 
opment has  been  running  its  destined  course,  and  will 
doubtless  conduct  us  eventually  to  yet  better  and  truer 
ideas  of  what  the  Almighty  purposes  had,  in  Christ,  really 
designed  to  give  to  the  world. 

To  vary  the  form  of  expression,  the  life  of  Christ  itself 
constitutes  the  revelation  of  His  will  which  the  Almighty 
Father  has  given  to  man  by  His  Son.  And  that  life  does 
constitute  a  revelation,  in  the  most  full  and  various 
import  of  this  term.  It  shows  us,  in  a  clear  and  engaging 
light,  the  One  God  and  Father  of  all,  the  Just  and  Holy 
One,  who  will  render  to  every  man  according  to  his  deeds. 
It  shows  us  the  high  powers  and  capacities  of  man  him- 
self; for,  while  and  because  it  tells  him  to  be  perfect  even 
as  the  Father  in  Heaven  is  perfect,  it  not  only  recognizes 
in  him  the  capability  to  be  so,  but  also  abundantly  affords 
the  spiritual  nutriment  by  which  the  higher  faculties  of 
his  nature  may  be  nurtured  and  strengthened  within  him. 
It  shows  us  how  to  live  a  life  of  religious  trust  and  obedi- 
ence to  the  commands  of  duty,  and,  amidst  many  sorrows 
and  trials,  still  to  preserve  a  soul  unstained  by  guilt.  It 
shows  us  that  this  high  devotion  to  the  sacred  law  of 
Truth  and  Right  is  that  which  is  well  pleasing  to  God ; 
and  that  His  will  is  that  man  should  thus,  by  the  discipUne 
of  his  spirit,  join  the  moral  strength  and  sensibility  in  this 
world  which  shall  fit  him,  if  he  will,  to  enter  upon  the 
higher  life  of  the  world  to  come.  All  this  we  see  plainly 
^expressed  and  announced  in  Christ,  constituting  him  the 


WHAT   IT  IS   NOT,   AND    WHAT   IT  IS.       255 

Hevealer  in  the  best  sense  of  this  term.  All  this  we  do 
see,  even  though  it  may  be  very  hard  to  find  any  doctri- 
nal creed  laid  dovm  in  definite  words,  or  any  system  of 
rites  and  ceremonies  of  worship,  of  Church  government, 
or  of  priestly  functions  and  dignities,  placed  before  us  as 
constituting  an  indispensable  part  of  our  common  Chris- 
tianity. 

And  it  is  here  an  obvious  remark  that,  while  Christian 
men  have  so  often  questioned  and  disputed  with  one  an- 
other about  the  essentials  of  their  religion;  while  they 
have  sometimes,  again,  been  forgetful  of  its  spirit,  in  their 
controversies  as  to  its  verbal  and  written  forms,  —  all  this 
time  they  have  been  substantially  agreed  as  to  the  matters 
which  are  the  greatest  and  weightiest  of  all.  About  the 
Gospel  as  embodying  and  expressing  man's  faith  in  God 
and  in  heaven,  and  as  setting  forth  the  highest  moral  law 
with  its  exemplification  in  an  actual  human  life;  about 
the  Gospel  in  these,  which  are  surely  its  most  serious  and 
interesting  aspects,  there  has  been  no  dispute.  The  great 
spiritual  principles  taught  by  Christ,  and  the  power  of  his 
practical  exhibition  of  human  duty,  have  been  constantly 
admitted  and  —  may  it  not  be  added  ?  —  constantly  felt  in 
the  world,  among  all  the  sects  and  parties  of  Christendom, 
in  spite  of  the  differences  of  forms  and  creeds  which  have 
separated  men  from  each  other. 

This  fact  suggests  a  further  consideration  of  obvious  in- 
terest. Regarded  as  a  dogmatic  or  an  ecclesiastical  system, 
the  Gospel  is  one  of  the  greatest  failures  which  the  world 
has  seen,  no  two  sects  or  churches,  scarcely  any  two  con- 
gregations, being  agreed  as  to  some  one  or  other  of  what 
are  deemed  its  most  essential  elements.  Regarded  as  a 
moral  and  spiritual  energy  and  instructor  among  men,  it 


256  CHRISTIANITY: 

is  and  always  has  been  a  quickening  power,  —  tending  d 
rectly,  in  its  genuine  influences,  to  support  and  to  gui6  i 
aright,  and,  even  amidst  the  worst  distractions  or  perver- 
sions of  human  passion  and  error,  whispering  thoughts  of 
hope,  comfort,  and  peace,  to  many  troubled  hearts.  This 
should  not  be  forgotten  in  our  estimates  of  the  part  played 
by  Christianity  in  past  times,  or  in  the  judgments  some- 
times so  lightly  uttered  by  a  certain  class  of  its  critics, 
who  show  themselves  so  ready  to  confound  the  religion 
with  its  coiTuptions,  and  to  include  it  and  them  in  one  in- 
discriminate condemnation.  It  should  help  to  call  us  back 
to  juster  views  of  the  nature  and  the  function  of  Christ's 
religion,  and  lead  us  the  better  to  see  that  these  consist, 
not  in  its  capacity  or  its  success  as  an  imposer  of  dogmas 
or  of  ceremonial  acts  to  be  received  and  carefully  per- 
formed by  either  priests  or  people,  but  in  its  power  to 
strengthen  with  moral  strength,  to  guide  in  the  path  of 
duty,  to  save  us  from  our  sins,  to  breathe  into  us  the  spirit 
of  Christ,  and  so  to  bring  us  nearer  to  God.  Such  is  the 
true  function  and  the  real  power  of  the  Gospel,  even 
though  it  may  constantly  have  had  to  act  in  the  midst  of 
gross  ignorance,  or  of  false  and  exaggerated  dogmatic  con- 
ception ;  nor  is  it  too  much  to  say  that  this  its  highest 
character  has  not  been  altogether  wanting  to  it,  even  in 
the  darkest  periods  of  man's  intellectual  experience,  during 
the  last  eighteen  centuries. 

And  not  only  is  this  so ;  but,  further,  it  is  evidently  not 
through  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  his  church  or  sect  that 
a  man  is  most  truly  entitled  to  the  name  of  Christian,  but 
rather  by  his  participation  in  what  is  common  to  all  the 
churches  and  sects  which  are  themselves  worthy  of  that 
name.     For  let  us  call  to  mind,  for  a  moment,  some  of  the 


WHAT   IT  IS   NOT,    AND    WHAT   IT   IS.       257 

more  eminent  Christian  men  and  women  of  modern  times, 
to  whatever  sectarian  fold  they  may  have  owned  them- 
selves to  belong.  Recall  the  names  of  a  Fenelon,  an 
Oberlin,  a  Vincent  de  Paul,  a  Xavier,  a  Melancthon,  a  Mil- 
ton, a  Locke,  a  Chalmers,  a  Clarkson,  a  Wilberforce,  a  Mrs. 
Fry,  a  Keble,  a  Heber,  a  Wesley,  a  Lardner,  a  Piiestley, 
a  Channing,  a  Tuckerman,  with  innumerable  other  true- 
hearted  followers  of  him  who  both  bear  witness  to  the 
truth,  and  "  went  about  doing  good."  In  such  persons  we 
liave  representatives  of  nearly  all  the  churches,  with  their 
various  peculiarities  of  doctrinal  confession.  And  must 
we  not  believe  that  such  men  and  women  were  true  Chris- 
tians ?  If  so,  will  it  not  follow  that  in  every  one  of  their 
differing  communions  true  Christians  are  to  be  found? 
Probably  no  man,  unless  it  be  one  of  the  most  bigoted  ad- 
herents of  Evangelical  or  high  Anglican  orthodoxy,  would 
venture  to  deny  this.  There  are,  then,  good  Christians, 
let  us  gladly  admit,  in  all  the  various  sects  and  parties  of 
Christendom ;  men  whom  Clirist  himself,  if  he  were  here, 
would  acknowledge  and  welcome  as  true  disciples.  But 
what  is  it  that  entitles  such  persons  all  alike  to  the  Chris- 
tian character  and  nam^?  It  cannot  be  any  thing  in  which 
each  differs  from  the  yest,  but  rather  something  which 
they  all  have  in  common.  It  cannot  be  any  thing  that  is 
peculiar  to  the  Roman  Catholic  alone,  for  then  the  Protes- 
tant would  not  have  it ;  nor  any  thing  that  is  peculiar  to 
the  Protestant  alone,  for  then  the  Roman  Catholic  would 
not  have  it ;  nor  any  thing  that  is  peculiar  to  the  Trin- 
itarian alone,  for  then  the  Unitarian  would  not  have  it.  It 
must  be  something  apart  from  the  distinctive  creed  of 
each.  It  is  then  something  which  all  must  possess,  other- 
wise they  would  not  be  truly  Christian  j  which  they  must 


258  CHRISTIANITY: 

have  in  addition  to  their  several  distinguishing  doctrines,  — 
in  company  with  which  the  latter  may  indeed  be  held,  but 
which  is  not  the  exclusive  property  of  any  single  church, 
or  sect,  or  individual,  whatever. 

What  then  do  all  the  Christian  sects  and  parties,  of 
every  name,  hold  in  common,  and  never  differ  about  ?  Is 
it  not  simply  in  this,  that  they  receive  and  reverence  Jesus 
as  the  beloved  Son  in  whom  God  was  well  pleased?  that 
they  hold  the  Christian  faith  in  the  Father  in  Heaven,  with 
all  that  this  involves  of  love  to  God  and  love  to  man  ?  that 
they  accept  the  law  of  righteousness,  placed  before  us  in 
the  "  living  characters  "  of  Christ's  own  deeds  and  words, 
and  strive  to  obey  it  in  their  conduct  ?  that  they  hold  the 
same  common  foith  as  to  the  presence  and  the  providence 
of  God,  the  future  life  and  the  judgment  to  come?  This 
Christian  allegiance,  it  is  true,  is  expressed  under  the  most 
different  forms  of  statement,  and  in  many  a  case  it  may 
hardly  be  definitely  expressed  at  all ;  but  yet  even  this,  and 
such  as  this,  is,  by  belief  and  practice,  the  common  property 
of  every  Christian  man ;  and  so  far  as  he  lives  in  the  spirit 
of  this  high  faith  is  he  truly  a  discl])le  and  no  further 
whatever  may  be  the  church  or  sect,  cr  forms  of  doc- 
trine and  worship,  to  which  he  may  attach  himself.  An<l 
all  this,  I  repeat,  is  most  plainly  revealed  to  us  in  the  spirit 
and  the  life  of  Christ,  —  insomuch  that  we  feel  the  state- 
ment to  be  incontrovertibly  sure,  that  he  is  the  truest 
Christian  of  all  whose  practical  daily  sjnrit  and  conduct 
are  the  most  closely  and  constantly  animated  and  gov- 
erned by  the  spirit  and  precepts  and  example  of  the  Mas- 
ter Christ. 

It  seems  strange,  when  we  think  about  it,  that  men 
should  have  gone  so  far  astray,  in  times  past,  from  the 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,    AND    WHAT  IT  IS.        259 

more  simple  and  obvious  idea  of  Christianity  thus  laid 
before  us.  We  may  have  difficulty  in  explaining  how  this 
has  come  to  pass ;  how  it  is  that  so  much  of  the  weight 
and  stress,  as  it  were,  of  the  Christian  rehgion  should  have 
been  laid  upon  obscure  metaphysical  creeds  and  dogmas, 
the  obvious  tendency  of  which  is,  and  always  has  been,  to 
divide  men  from  each  other,  to  degenerate  into  gross  su- 
perstition, and  destroy  the  liberty  "  wherewith  Christ  has 
made  us  free,"  and  which,  moreover,  are  nowhere  con- 
tained in  the  Scriptures,  and  cannot  even  be  stated  in  the 
language  of  the  Scriptures ;  how  it  is,  again,  that  so  little 
emphasis  should  be  laid  in  these  dogmatic  formulas  upon 
that  obedience  which  is  better  than  sacrifice,  even  that 
doing  the  Heavenly  Father's  will,  which  —  strange  to 
tell!  —  is  the  only  condition  prescribed  by  Christ  for 
entering  into  the  kingdom. 

Truly  this  question  is  not  without  its  perplexities.  But 
some  explanation  may  be  found.  It  is  the  obvious  law  of 
Divine  Providence,  it  is  and  has  been  a  great  law  of  human 
progress,  that  Truth  shall  not  be  flashed  upon  the  mind 
at  once,  either  in  religion  or  in  any  other  of  the  great  fields 
of  interest  and  occupation  to  man;  but  that  it  shall  be 
conquered  and  won  through  the  medium  of  slow  and  grad- 
ual approach,  even  in  the  midst  and  by  the  help  of  mis- 
understanding and  eiTor.  It  is  thus,  doubtless,  that  men 
are  trained  to  appreciate  rightly  the  value  of  the  truths 
and  principles  which  they  ultimately  gain.  In  other  words, 
past  experience  goes  far  to  show  us  that  moral  excellence 
and  the  apprehension  of  truth,  by  such  a  being  as  man, 
can  only  be  acqufred  by  means  of  previous  conflict  with 
eWl  and  untruth,  in  some  one  or  other  of  their  manifold 
forms ;  or,  if  not  by  an  actual  personal  conflict  for  each  of 


260  CHRISTIANITY. 

US  individually,  at  least  by  means  of  the  observed  or 
recorded  experience  of  others,  more  severely  tried  than 
ourselves. 

Thus  it  has  doubtless  been  with  the  reception  and  grad- 
ual prevalence  of  Christian  truths  and  principles.  Men 
have  had  slowly,  by  a  varied  and  somethnes  painful  ex- 
perience, to  learn  that  it  is  not  by  saying.  Lord,  Lord, 
by  confessing  some  formal  creed,  or  being  included  within 
the  limits  of  some  visible  church ;  not  by  forms  and  cere- 
monies of  any  kind,  such  as  baptism  at  the  hands  of  a 
priest,  or  the  confession  of  sin  into  his  ear,  that  we  may  be- 
come truly  recipients  of  tlie  light  and  strength  of  the  Gos- 
pel of  Christ ;  but  much  rather  by  personal  communion 
with  the  Spirit  of  God,  by  doing  the  things  which  the 
Lord  hath  said,  by  striving  to  be  like  Christ,  in  heart  and 
in  life,  active  in  goodness,  submissive  to  the  Heavenly 
Father's  will,  and  ready  to  the  work  of  duty  which  He  has 
given  us  to  do. 

In  proportion  as  this  conception  of  Christianity  comes 
forward  into  view,  and  assumes  the  pre-eminence  to  which 
it  is  entitled,  and  which  is  either  implied  or  expressly  de- 
clared in  the  principal  writings  of  the  New  Testament,  in 
the  sanie  degree  must  the  merely  dogmatic  and  sacerdotal 
idea  sink  into  insignificance.  It  will  be  seen  that  moral 
and  spiritual  likeness  to  the  Christian  Head  is  what  is  all- 
important  ;  and,  consequently,  that  within  the  limits  of  the 
same  communion,  bound  together  by  the  common  princi- 
ple of  Christian  faith,  —  the  principle  of  love  and  reverence 
for  the  one  Master,  Christ,  —  there  may  exist  the  most 
complete  mental  freedom,  and  even,  to  a  very  large  extent, 
the  most  diverse  theological  beliefs. 


WHAT   IT  IS  NOT,   AND    WHAT  IT  IS.       261 

IV. 

But  here  I  may  be  met  by  certain  objections  which  will 
hardly  fail  to  occur  to  different  classes  of  readers. 

In  the  first  place,  it  may  be  said,  the  idea  of  the  Gospel 
above  presented  is  itself  dogmatic ;  and  indeed  that  the 
conception  of  Christianity  as  involving  definite  forms  of 
doctrine  is  not  to  be  got  rid  of  This  remark  I  am  by  no 
means  concerned  wholly  to  escape.  Doubtless  the  Gospel, 
as  it  is  given  in  the  words  of  Christ,  includes  various 
clearly  stated  truths  respecting  the  Divine  Providence  and 
Will,  and  the  retributions  of  this  world  and  the  next,  — 
truths,  I  may  add,  which  are  not  only  level  to  the  appre- 
hension of  the  human  faculties,  but  also  in  harmony  with 
the  highest  dictates  of  the  natural  conscience  and  reason 
of  man.  But  these  great  truths  are  not  dogmatically  laid 
before  us  in  the  Gospel.  The  mind  of  each  reader  is  left  free 
to  gather  them  for  itself  They  are  so  stated  as  to  quicken 
and  elevate,  not  to  stupefy  or  render  useless,  the  rehgious 
and  moral  sense  of  the  disciple.  They  serve  thus,  in  the 
result,  to  arouse  in  him  the  strength  of  deep  individual 
conviction,  without  which  they  could  have  little  practical 
value.  The  teaching  function  of  the  Gospel  is  of  this  kind, 
rather  than  dogmatic  and  denunciatory,  in  the  manner  of 
the  creeds.  It  does  not  attempt  to  put  before  us  a  ready- 
made  body  of  doctrine,  in  such  a  way  as  to  save  the  dis- 
ciple the  trouble  of  inquiry  and  reflection  for  himself,  as 
though  it  would  make  him  the  mere  recipient  of  what  is 
imposed  upon  him  from  without.  Not  in  this  mechanical 
way,  either  in  the  world  of  outward  nature,  or  in  the  Gos- 
pel of  His  Son,  does  the  Great  Parent  speak  to  the  hearts 
of  His  children;  but  chiefly  by  awakening  their  higher, 


262  CHRISTIANITY: 

devouter  sensibilities,  and  letting  them  feel  the  force  of 
truth  and  right  within  their  own  secret  spirits.  No  impo- 
sition from  without  could  fitly  accomplish  this  divine  work ; 
and  we  may  be  well  assured  that  no  man  living,  and  no 
church  or  sect  on  earth,  has  a  legitimate  authority  to  define 
exactly  the  limits  within  which  Christian  belief  shall  con- 
fine itself,  or  beyond  which  belief  shall  not  extend,  without 
ceasing  to  be  Christian.  Obviously  and  unquestionably 
Christ  himself  has  nowhere  attempted  to  dictate  his  re- 
ligion in  such  a  way ;  neither  has  any  of  his  apostles,  not 
even  the  ardent  and  impetuous  Paul.  On  the  contrary, 
the  latter,  like  his  Master,  constantly  attaches  the  greatest 
importance  to  the  practical  virtues,  and  to  a  devout  spirit,— 
in  no  case  making  his  appeal  to  a  dogmatic  statement,  or 
giving  us  to  understand  that  he  had  the  least  idea  of  any 
dogmatic  system  whatever,  similar,  in  spirit  or  in  form,  to 
the  creeds  of  modem  orthodoxy. 

A  second  objection  may  be  urged  by  a  defender  of  the 
prevailing  forms  and  dogmas  of  the  churches.  Such  a 
person  may  say  that,  in  taking  Christ  as  the  measure  and 
representative  of  his  own  religion,  we  leave  out  of  sight 
all  that  may  have  been  contributed  to  its  development 
by  the  Apostles,  to  say  nothing  of  their  successors,  and 
that  the  Epistles  of  the  New  Testament  contain  much 
that  is  not  met  with  in  connection  with  him.  In  reply, 
let  it  be  observed  in  what  terms  the  Apostles  speak  of 
their  Master,  and  of  the  obedience,  the  faith,  and  veneration 
due  to  him.  Paul,  for  example,  in  various  forms,  tells  them 
to  "  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ; "  to  let  his  mind  be  in 
them,  his  word  dwell  in  them  richly,  to  acquire  his  spirit,  to 
follow  him  in  love  and  self-sacrifice.  He  will  know  nothing, 
he  says,  "save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified;"  and  we 


WBAT  IT   IS   NOT,    AND    WHAT  IT  IS.        263 

know  how  closely  he  treads  in  his  Master's  steps,  in  the  abso- 
lute preference  which  he  gives  to  the  Love  which,  he  de- 
clares, is  greater  than  faith,  and  the  very  fulfilling  of  the  law 
itself.  The  same  strain  is  held  by  others  of  the  Apostles ; 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Christ,  under  God,  was 
constantly  looked  up  to  by  them  as  the  great  object  of 
the  faith,  the  love,  and  the  imitation  of  every  disciple.  It 
is  true,  indeed,  that  there  are  many  things  in  the  Apos- 
tolical writings  other  than  we  find  in  connection  with 
Christ's  personal  life ;  but  these  will  be  found  to  belong, 
almost  exclusively,  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  and  con- 
troversies of  the  times  succeeding  his  death.  In  truth, 
they  belong  so  entirely  to  them  as  to  have  little  of  practi- 
cal reference,  or  utility,  beyond.  Paul's  Epistles,  for  in- 
stance, are  full  of  the  long  debated  question  as  to  the  claims 
of  the  law  upon  Gentiles,  and  the  mystery  which,  he  says, 
had  been  hidden  "  from  the  foundation  of  the  world,"  that 
the  Messiah  should  be  preached  even  to  those  who  were 
not  of  the  fold  of  Israel.  But  these  are  only  temporary 
incidents  of  the  early  career  of  Christianity.  They  have 
no  intimate  connection  with  the  permanent  influence  of 
Christ;  and  we  of  modern  times  have  little  concern  with 
them,  except  only  to  be  on  our  guard  against  letting  them 
unduly  sway  our  judgment  and  turn  us  away  from  sub- 
jects of  greater  consequence,  —  as  too  often  has  happened 
to  the  ingenious  framers  of  theological  systems.  Chris- 
tianity, in  a  word,  has  been  only  perplexed  and  impeded 
in  its  course,  by  those  thoughtless  or  over-zealous  ex- 
pounders who  have  insisted  upon  constructing  schemes  of 
orthodoxy  out  of  the  antiquated  disputes  of  Jews  and 
Gentiles.^ 

1  See,  e.g.,  the  Essay  on  the  Death  of  Christ,  in  Aids  to  Faith. 


264  CHRISTIANITY: 

In  all  bis  Epistles  St.  Paul,  in  the  true  spirit  of  his 
Master,  gives  us  clearly  to  know  what  is  of  chief  impor- 
tance. After  treating,  as  he  usually  does,  of  the  local 
and  passing  concerns  and  disputes  which  engaged  many 
of  his  correspondents,  he  never  fails  to  turn  at  last  to 
speak  of  the  practical  goodness,  the  purity  of  heart  and 
life,  the  kindly  affections  towards  one  another,  the  reason- 
able service  of  love  and  duty,  by  which  the  Christian 
disciple  may  be  known,  by  which  alone  he  can  present 
himself  as  a  "  living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto  God." 
In  such  qualities  as  these,  the  attainment  or  the  practice 
of  which  he  so  earnestly  urges  upon  his  friends,  we  ha\e 
precisely  what  constitute  the  most  marked  features  in  the 
life  and  the  teachinj^s  of  Christ.  Thus  we  are  broucrht 
once  more  to  the  old  conclusion  that  in  faithful  loyalty  to 
Christ,  to  the  highest  ideal  presented  to  us  of  his  spirit 
and  character,  are  to  be  found  the  true  light  and  joy  and 
peace  of  the  Christian  Gospel. 

A  third  objection  is  of  a  different  character.  There  are 
some  things,  it  w^ill  be  said,  in  immediate  connection  with 
him  whom  we  term  Teacher  and  Lord,  some  things  in 
his  words  and  ideas,  if  not  in  his  actions,  wliich  are  far 
from  being  in  perfect  hannony  with  the  highest  truth,  as 
known  to  men  in  these  later  times.  For  example,  when 
he  speaks  as  though  he  believed  diseases  and  insanity  to 
be  caused  by  the  presence  of  a  devil,  or  demon,  in  the 
afflicted  person,  are  we  to  attach  importance  to  this,  so  as 
ourselves  to  think  that  such  disorders  are  (or  were)  so 
produced  ?  —  or  shall  we  not  rather  follow  the  guidance 
of  modern  science,  and  believe  that  the  various  infirmities 
which,  in  ancient  times,  were  attributed  to  evil  spirits 
arose  from  natural  causes,  and  that  the  manner  in  which 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,    AND    WHAT  IT  IS,       265 

such  things  are  spoken  of  in  the  New  Testament  is  a 
product  simply  of  the  imperfect  knowledge  of  those 
days? 

In  reply,  there  need  be  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  we 
are  bound,  as  beings  of  thought  and  reason,  to  follow  the 
best  guidance  which  God  has  given  us,  in  these  and  all  other 
subjects;  and  by  the  tenn  best  can  only  be  understood 
that  which  commends  itself  most  forcibly  to  our  rational 
intelligence.  It  can  in  no  way  be  claimed  for  Christ  that 
he  was  intellectually  perfect ;  that  he  did  not  share  in  the 
prevailing  behefs  of  his  countrymen,  and  partake  even  of 
their  ignorance.  Such  a  claim  as  this  is  certainly  nowhere 
advanced  in  the  New  Testament,  but  the  contrary;  and 
those  who,  in  our  time,  would  bring  it  forward  should  ask 
themselves  whether,  by  so  doing,  they  are  most  likely  to 
benefit,  or  to  injure,  the  cause  which  doubtless  they  would 
desire  to  support.  Jesus  himself  makes  no  pretension  to 
intellectual  infallibility,  but  lets  us  see,  in  no  uncertain 
way,  that  he  was  not  unconscious  of  the  limitation  of  his 
own  knowledge.^ 

In  general  terms  it  may  be  added,  the  Gospel,  when 
first  preached  in  the  world,  was  necessarily  adapted  to 
the  people  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  It  conformed,  in 
many  respects,  to  their  ideas  and  modes  of  expression, 
and  also  made  use  of  these  for  its  own  ends.  Had  it  not 
done  so,  how  could  it  have  touched  and  moved  them  as  it 
did,  and  as,  tlirough  them,  it  has  touched  and  moved  the 
world  ever  since?  Jesus,  therefore,  himself,  and  those 
who  took  up  his  work  after  him,  were,  in  a  large  degree, 
men  of  their  own  day,  imbued  with  prevailing  ideas 
and  feelings,  and  employing  these  in  their  speaking  and 

1  Mark  xiii.  32. 
12 


266  CHRISTIANITY: 

preaching  in  the  most  natural  manner.  Is  it  not  even  so 
with  ourselves  at  the  present  moment  ?  For  how,  indeed, 
can  it  be  otherwise  ?  And  if  many  of  the  primitive  Chris- 
tian ideas  were  more  or  less  erroneous  and  ill-founded,  it 
is  easy  to  understand  that,  while  the  overruling  Provi- 
dence made  them  its  instruments  for  leading  men  on  by 
degrees  to  something  better,  still  it  can  have  been  no  part 
of  the  great  design  of  God  that  misunderstanding  and 
ignorance  should  be  removed  by  any  other  process  than 
by  the  natural  growth  of  knowledge  among  men.  They 
were  not  to  be  supernaturally  refuted,  but  left  to  be  cor- 
rected in  due  course  of  time ;  and  the  needed  correction 
was  and  is  to  come  even  as  men  grow  wiser  and  more 
thoughtful  and  able  to  bear  it. 

Hence,  it  is  not  to  be  questioned,  many  errors,  chiefly 
of  the  intellectual  kind,  attached  to  the  early  preaching  of 
the  Gospel,  and  some  certainly  did  to  the  words  of  Christ 
himself;  just  as  very  much  of  human  ignorance  and  preju- 
dice has  since  and  continually  been  involved  in  the  ideas 
prevailing  as  to  the  character  and  purposes  of  his  religion. 
As  before  observed,  man  has  been  made  by  his  Creator  to 
find  his  way  up  to  light  and  truth  from  the  most  imper- 
fect beginnings,  and  by  a  prolonged  conflict  against  and 
amidst  darkness  and  manifold  error.  Such  is  our  human 
nature,  and  the  position  which  the  Divine  Will  has  as- 
signed to  us.  And  so  in  the  early  ages  after  Christ  there 
sprung  up  the  idolatrous  worship  of  the  Virgin  Mary  and 
of  innumerable  saints ;  nor  is  the  world  yet  free,  though 
it  is  slowly  freeing  itself,  from  the  influence  of  these  super- , 
stitions  and  their  related  errors  of  thought.  Successive 
generations  inherit  much  of  the  evil  as  well  as  the  good, 
the  ignorance  as  well  as  the  knowledge,  of  those  who  have 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,    AND    WHAT  IT  IS.       267 

been  before  them.  Thus  does  the  Almighty  Father  exer- 
cise and  discipline  his  human  fkmily  in  patience,  in  self- 
control,  in  the  search  after  truth,  even  by  letting  us  suffer 
and  work  for  the  good  fruits  of  knowledge  and  righteous- 
ness, instead  of  giving  them  to  the  world  at  once  without 
thought  or  effort  of  our  own.  This  is  eminently  true  in 
connection  with  the  whole  course  of  Christian  develop- 
ment. In  Christ's  own  teachings  and  those  of  the  Apos- 
tles, as  time  has  amply  shown,  erroneous  ideas  were  not 
wanting.  Peter  denied  his  Master,  and  thought  at  first 
that  only  Jews  could  be  disciples.  Both  he  and  Paul,  as 
well  as  James,  with  probably  all  the  early  Christians, 
long  cherished  the  hope  of  their  Master's  return  to  the 
earth  within  that  generation;  a  behef  which  is  to  be 
traced  also,  equally  with  that  in  demoniacal  possessions, 
in  the  recorded  words  of  Jesus  himself.  Other  instances 
of  a  similar  kind  might  easily  be  mentioned. 

But,  while  all  this  seems  perfectly  undeniable,  has  not 
Divine  Providence  so  ordered  that  what  is  really  wrong 
and  false  in  men's  ideas  of  Christian  truth  shall  sooner  or 
later  be  seen  in  its  real  character,  in  the  advancing  prog- 
ress of  human  knowledge?  —  and  therefore,  if  we  are 
ourselves  only  patient  and  faithful,  each  of  us,  to  what  we 
see,  or  think  we  see,  to  be  right  and  good,  that  the  untrue 
in  our  ideas  shall  be  eventually  separated  from  the  true, 
however  close  may  be  the  connection  which  at  any  time 
may  subsist  between  them?  Such  is,  doubtless,  the 
Almighty  purpose,  such  the  all-sufficient  process  provided, 
in  His  wisdom  for  securing  the  training  and  growth  of  the 
races  and  generations  of  men  in  the  knowledge  of  Divine 
things.  It  follows,  again,  that  whatever  in  the  Christian 
teaching,  as  in  other  teaching,  shall  stand  the  test  of 


268  CHRISTIANITY: 

advancing  knowledge,  and  still  approve  itself  as  true  and 
honest  and  just  and  pure  and  lovely  and  of  good  report^ 
to  the  purified  conscience  and  practised  intellect  of  man, 
that  shall  be  God's  everlasting  Truth ;  that  too  He  must 
have  designed  not  only  by  the  word  of  Christ,  but  through 
the  living  souls  of  His  rational  children,  to  proclaim  to  the 
world  with  the  mark  of  His  Divine  appro^•al. 

It  is  not  necessary  here  to  ask  in  detail  what  it  is  in 
existing  schemes  of  Christian  theology,  or  in  the  outward 
forms  and  arrangements  of  priesthoods  and  of  churches, 
that  will  bear  this  test  of  advancing  knowledge,  and  this 
scrutiny  of  the  educated  mtellect  and  conscience.  Doubt- 
less much  in  the  popular  creeds  of  our  day  will  do  so; 
but  much  more  will  only  be  as  chaff  before  the  wind,  or 
stubble  before  the  devouring  flame.  Among  the  perish- 
able things  will  surely  be  the  ecclesiastical  systems  which 
vary  with  every  different  country  and  church,  and  along 
with  these  the  claims  to  priestly  and  papal  authority  and 
infallibility,  about  which  we  again  hear  such  angry  con- 
tention. Truly,  none  of  these  will  bear  the  test  and 
strain  of  time  and  knowledge ;  but  only  those  gi*eat  and 
imchangeable  principles  of  spiritual  truth,  and  those  deep- 
lying  sentiments  of  moral  right,  which  are  common  to  all 
the  different  sects  and  parties  of  Christendom.  These 
will  retain  their  place  among  the  great  motive  forces  of 
tlie  world,  even  because  their  roots  are  firmly  planted  by 
the  Divine  hand  itself  in  the  very  natm-e  of  man,  and 
made  to  be  a  part  of  the  constitution  of  his  mind ;  while, 
also,  it  is  true,  and  the  Christian  disciple  will  ever  grate- 
fully acknowledge,  they  owe  their  best  and  highest  expres- 
sion and  exemplification  to  Jesus  the  Christ,  the  "  beloved 
Son,"  in  whom  God  was  "  well  pleased." 
1  Philip  iv.  8. 


WHAT  IT  IS   NOT,   AND    WHAT  IT  IS.        269 

"We  may  conclude  then,  as  before,  that  in  the  mind  and 
life  of  Christ,  —  in  his  unshaken  trust  in  the  Heavenly- 
Father,  and  in  the  heaven  to  be  revealed  hereafter,  —  in 
his  readiness  to  obey  the  call  of  Duty,  wherever  it  might 
lead  him,  even  though  it  might  be  to  the  shame  and  the 
agony  of  the  cross,  —  in  his  faithful  adherence  to  the  right, 
and  earnest  denunciation  of  falsehood,  hypocrisy,  and 
wrong-doing,  —  in  his  gentle  spirit  of  forgiveness  and  filial 
submission  even  unto  death,  —  we  have  the  lessons  of 
Christian  truth  and  virtue  which  it  most  of  all  concerns 
.us  to  receive  and  to  obey.  In  this  high  "  faith  of  Christ " 
we  have  the  true'  revelation  of  God's  will  for  man ;  the 
Gospel  speaking  to  us  in  its  most  touching  and  impressive 
tones,  —  either  reproaching  us  for  our  indifference  and 
calling  us  to  repentance,  or  else  aiding  and  encouraging 
us  onward  in  the  good  path  of  righteousness. 

So  long  as  Christianity  shall  be  thus  capable  of  speak- 
ing to  the  world,  so  long  will  it,  amidst  all  the  varieties 
of  outward  profession,  be  a  living  power  for  good ;  and 
vain  will  be  the  representation  which  would  tell  us  that 
it  is  now  only  a  thing  of  the  past,  unfitted  for  the  better 
knowledge  and  higher  philosophy  of  these  modem  times. 
Surely  not  so!  — but,  rather,  until  we  have  each  individu- 
ally attained  the  moral  elevation  even  of  Christ  himself, 
and  can  say  that  Ave  too,  in  character  and  conduct,  in 
motive  and  aspiration,  are  well  pleasing  in  the  sight  of 
Heaven,  until  we  are  this,  and  can  feel  and  say  this  with 
truth,  the  religion  of  Christ  will  be  no  antiquated  thing  of 
the  past  to  us  ;  but  from  its  teaching  and  its  spirit  —  the 
teaching  and  the  spirit  of  Christ  —  we  shall  still  have 
wisdom  and  truth  to  learn. 

May  the  time  speedily  come,  which  shall  see  Christ's 


270  CHRISTIANITY. 

spirit  ruling  the  individual  lives  of  all  around  us,  —  more 
truly  inspiring  the  thoughts  and  efforts  of  our  lawgivers, 
—  teaching  men  everywhere  to  be  just  and  merciful  to- 
wards each  other ;  and  thus  making  Christianity,  in  deed 
and  in  truth,  the  "  established  religion,"  the  guiding  and 
triumphant  power  of  this  and  all  other  lands!  Then, 
indeed,  will  the  daily  prayer  of  all  Christian  hearts  be 
answered,  and  the  "  kingdom  of  heaven  "  on  earth  be  truly 
oome. 


THE    AIM    AND    HOPE    OF    JESUS. 


By  OLIVER    STEARNS. 


THE    AIM    AND    HOPE    OF    JESUS. 


A  LEARNED  Historian  of  the  Christian  Theology  of 
-^^^  the  Apostolic  age  observes  that  what  most  distin- 
guishes the  Jewish  religion,  at  least  in  its  last  centuries,  is 
not  so  much  monotheism  as  faith  in  the  future.  While 
elsewhere  we  see  the  imagination  of  men  complacently 
retracing  the  picture  of  a  golden  age  irrecoverably  lost, 
Israel,  guided  by  its  prophets,  persisted  in  turning  its  eyes 
towards  the  future,  and  attached  itself  the  more  firmly  to 
a  felicity  yet  to  come,  the  more  the  actual  situation  seemed 
to  give  the  lie  to  its  hopes.^ 

What  these  hopes  were  in  relation  to  the  future  of  that 
people  and  of  the  world,  what  the  Messianic  ideas  and 
expectations  were,  we  learn  from  the  New  Testament, 
particularly  from  the  Gospels.  And  we  find  our  impres- 
sions from  this  source  made  more  clear  in  some  points,  and 
in  all  confirmed,  by  a  study  of  the  Apocalyptic  literature, 
—  of  those  writings  of  which  it  was  the  object  to  give 
both  shape  and  expression  to  the  Hebrew  thought  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  and  of  the  brilliant  and  miraculous 
events  which  would  introduce  and  establish  it. 

1  Reuss,  History  erf  the  Christian  Theology  of  the  Apostolic  Age. 
12* 


274  TEE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF   JESUS. 

Jewish  Theology  in  the  age  of  Jesus  Christ  divided  the 
whole  course  of  time  into  two  grand  periods ;  one,  com- 
prehending the  past  and  the  present,  was  that  of  suffer- 
ing and  sin ;  the  other,  embracing  the  future,  a  period  of 
virtue  and  happiness.  The  last  years  of  the  former  period 
formed  the  most  important  epoch  in  the  History  of  Hu- 
manity, the  transition  to  a  new  order  of  things,  and  was 
designated  by  a  pecuhar  phrase, —  the  consummation  of 
the  age  and  the  last  days.  It  would  be  introduced  by  the 
appearance  of  the  great  Restorer  or  Deliverer  of  the  peo- 
ple of  God,  and  of  the  world,  whom  the  prophets  predicted ; 
and  who  was  called  the  Messiah,  the  Anointed  of  the  Lord, 
—  i.e.y  the  King  by  eminence,  the  King  of  Israel.  He  was 
to  be  the  successor  and  the  son  of  David.  The  precise 
moment  of  his  appearance  was  not  known.  The  Jewish 
theologians  tried  to  determine  the  precursive  signs  of  the 
near  approach  of  his  advent.  The  first  of  these  was  the 
period  of  great  wickedness  and  suffering,  marked  by  a 
particular  name,  the  anguish,  and  compared  to  the  pangs 
of  child-birth.  Immediately  preceding  the  advent  of  the 
King,  a  prophet  of  the  Old  Covenant  would  be  restored  to 
life  to  announce  it,  —  a  part  in  the  miraculous  drama  com- 
monly assigned  to  Elijah.  The  Messiah  himself  would 
come  on  the  clouds  of  heaven,  with  a  retinue  of  angels, 
and  with  a  pomp  and  splendor  which  would  leave  no  doubt 
of  the  fact  of  his  advent.  He  would  come  to  found  the 
kingdom  of  God.  This  implied  the  political,  moral,  and 
religious  regeneration  of  the  people.  A  series  of  most  im- 
posing scenes  would  follow  the  advent.  At  the  sound  of 
a  trumpet,  the  dead  would  arise  and  appear  for  the  judg- 
ment of  the  last  day.  The  just  would  take  part  in  the 
judgment  of  the  reprobate,  who  would  be  thrown  into 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  275 

the  lake  of  fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels  to 
suffer  eternal  torture.  And  the  kingdom  of  God  or  of  the 
Messiah  would  be  established  immediately  on  the  earth, 
which,  with  the  whole  of  the  universe  of  which  it  was  the 
centre,  would  be  gloriously  transformed  to  fit  it  to  be  the 
abode  of  the  elect  of  God. 

Into  the  circle  of  these  ideas  and  expectations  Jesus 
was  bom.  In  it  he  passed  his  life,  acted  and  suffered ;  and 
claimed  to  found  the  kingdom  of  God.  He  claimed  in 
some  sense  to  be  the  Messiah;  and,  though  rejected  by  his 
people  and  put  to  death,  he  has  borne  the  name  in  history, 
and  now  bears  it.  He  is  Jesus,  the  Christ.  How  did  he 
regard  these  ideas  and  expectations  ?  Did  he  adopt  them  ? 
And,  if  at  all,  how  far?  Did  he  claim  to  be  such  a  Mes- 
siah as  the  Jews  expected  ?  If  so,  then  Christianity  may 
be  what  it  has  been  called,  "a  natural  development  of 
Judaism."  It  is  not  essentially  a  new  religion.  It  is  not 
an  evolution  of  a  perfect  universal,  from  an  imperfect  and 
partial,  religion.  It  is  essentially  Judaism  still ;  and  "  the 
kingdom  of  God,  which  Jesus  preached  in  both  a  temporal 
and  spiritual  sense,  developed  naturally  and  logically  into 
the  Popedom,  which  is  the  nearest  approximation  to  the 
fulfilment  of  the  claim  of  Jesus.  Judaism  is  germinal 
Christianity,  and  Christianity  is  fructified  Judaism."  Chris- 
tianity is  only  what  is  weakest  and  most  fantastic  in  Juda- 
ism gone  to  seed.  The  fruit  is  the  Roman  Hierarchy  and 
Ritual.  That  which  is  alone  characteristic  of  it  is  limited 
and  perishable.  Jesus  himself,  though  his  ambition  was  a 
lolly  one,  was  mistaken  in  an  essential  point  of  his  self- 
assertion  ;  and  the  gospel  is  not  destined  to  be  an  universal 
religion,  but  only  to  make  some  moderate  contributions 
thereto. 


276  THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

It  is  an  important  question,  then,  —  one  wliich  concerns 
his  worth  and  position  as  a  man,  as  well  ae  his  wisdom  as 
a  founder  of  a  religion,  —  What  did  Jesus  aim  at?  and 
what  did  he  expect  as  the  result  of  his  movement?  The 
answers  that  have  been  given  may  bo  reduced  to  three 
principal  forms :  1.  He  expected  to  found  a  political  Em- 
pire ;  2.  He  expected  to  introduce  a  vast  Theocracy,  to 
which  believers  of  other  nations  should  be  admitted,  and 
which  was  to  be  established  on  the  renovated  earth,  after 
his  death,  at  his  return  to  take  possession  of  it  as  King, 
to  reward  his  followers,  and  to  put  all  opposition  under 
his  feet  ;  3.  He  expected  to  found  a  purely  spiritual  com- 
munion or  society  in  which  he  should  continue  to  exercise 
for  ages,  by  his  spirit,  word,  and  life,  a  power  of  truth  and 
love  over  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men,  filling  them  with 
the  most  exalted  sense  of  God. 

The  first  view  has  been  presented  by  some  able  adver- 
saries of  Christianity,  among  whom  Reimarus  led  the  way 
in  a  fragment  "  On  the  Aim  of  Jesus,"  published  with  others 
anonymously  in  1778.  He  charged  Jesus  with  using  relig- 
ious motives  as  merely  a  means  to  a  political  end ;  but  sup- 
posed that,  after  he  found  death  impending,  he  renounced 
the  political  aim,  and  pretended  that  his  purpose  was  only 
a  moral  one.  A  few  able  scholars  have  been  disposed  to 
blend  the  last  view  with  the  others.  They  suppose  an 
original  Theocratic  purpose  to  have  been  entertained  by 
Jesus,  in  which  the  moral  and  religious  principle  predom- 
inated, but  which  was  not  at  first  exclusive  of  the  political 
element.  They  suppose,  however,  a  progress  in  his  aim ; 
that  after  his  rejection  by  the  people,  "  which  he  regarded 
as  God's  rejection  of  any  national  limitation  of  his  work," 
he  inferred  that  his  mission  was  to  found  a  spiritual  king- 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  277 

dom.  Though  the  direct  imputation  of  a  political  aim 
has  not  been  a  favorite  expedient  with  ultra-rationalist 
critics  since  Reimarus  was  answered  by  Reinhard  and 
others,  it  ought  not  to  be  passed  without  consideration. 
It  is  continually  reappearing  in  modified  forms.  And  this 
happens,  because  it  is  impossible  to  present  the  hypothesis 
that  Jesus  intended  to  be  a  Jewish  Messiah  without  in- 
volving the  supposition  of  sometliing  political  in  his  object, 
and  in  his  means  of  accomplishing  it.  Accordingly  a  very 
recent  critic^  of  Christianity,  writing  in  the  interest  of 
"  Free  Religion,"  and  representing  Jesus  as  claiming  to  be 
a  Jewish  Messiah,  after  saying  very  truly  that  "  tlie  popu- 
lar hope  of  a  Priest-king  transformed  itself  in  the  soul  of 
Jesus  into  the  sublime  idea  of  a  spiritual  Christ  ruling 
by  love,"  is  constrained  to  say,  inconsistently,  in  another 
place,  that,  if  Jesus  had  assumed  the  office,  he  would  not 
have  hesitated  to  discharge  its  }>olitical  duties,  and  to 
exercise  political  sway.  Here,  then,  is  a  revival  of  the 
imputation  to  Jesus  of  a  political  aim.  But  I  am  not 
aware  that  it  is  anywhere  in  recent  criticism  enforced 
with  any  new  strength  of  argimient.  It  is  obviously  con- 
tradicted by  the  general  bearing  of  his  actions,  and  by  the 
whole  tone  of  his  teachings  when  rightly  apprehended. 
It  is  contradicted  by  his  utter  neglect  of  political  meas- 
ures. He  could  not  be  induced  or  forced  to  take  the  posi- 
tion of  a  political  ruler.  Admirers  wished  to  proclaim 
him  King:  he  sent  them  away,  tore  his  disciples  from 
them,  and  went  himself  into  the  mountain  to  comnmne 
with  God.  Asked  to  settle  a  dispute  about  property,  he 
says  he  has  never  been  constituted  an  administrator  of 
civil  justice.  When  shown  the  tribute-money,  and  inquired 
1  See  "  The  Index,"  Toledo,  Jan.  1  and  Jan.  8,  1870. 


278  THE   AIM   AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

of  if  it  were  lawful  to  pay  tribute  unto  Caesar,  he  makes 
the  memorable  reply  in  which  he  at  once  acknowledges 
the  rights  of  the  government  de  facto  ;  and  the  rights  of 
conscience  and  religion,  which  to  deny  would  be  usuq^a- 
tion.  He  was  the  first  to  distinguish  the  spheres  of  the 
church  and  of  the  state  so  intimately  related,  but  never 
to  be  blended.  And  this  is  just  what  the  political  Mes- 
siah, the  Priest-king,  could  not  have  conceived.  The  out- 
lines of  his  church  may  serve  as  the  model  of  a  free  church 
to-day.  There  was  no  political  motive  to  enter  it.  It  had 
no  officer  who  could  exercise  political  power.  There  was 
no  authority  but  in  the  congregation.  It  was  amenable  to 
no  political  head.  Its  fundamental  truths  were  the  equal 
relation  of  all  men  with  God  as  his  children,  and  the 
common  relation  of  all  men  with  one  another  as  brethren. 
The  only  end  of  his  church  was  the  moral  and  spiritual 
development  of  its  merabei*s  and  of  all  men ;  the  only 
condition  of  membership,  the  recognition  of  this  end; 
and,  with  it,  of  the  providential  gift  of  truth  and  life  given 
in  Jesus  Christ's  consciousness  of  God,  and  an  apj)ropriat- 
ing  and  co-operative  sympathy  with  his  character  and  pur- 
pose. Its  method  was  free  conference  and  prayer  in  the 
spirit  of  unity,  and  in  devotion  to  the  regeneration  of  the 
human  family ;  a  method,  the  results  of  which,  he  assured 
them,  would  be  the  reaching  of  decisions  which  would 
be  in  essential  harmony  with  his  own  spirit,  the  Spirit 
of  God.  He  drew  more  from  the  synagogue  than  from 
the  temple.  Worship  might  ascend  anywhere  from  the 
heart.  One  need  not  go  to  Jerusalem.  No  political 
Messiah  could  have  thought  of  any  centre  of  the  re- 
stored Theocracy  but  the  holy  city,  to  which  the  tribes 
should  repair  with   their  sacrifices,   and   the   converted 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF   JESUS.  279 

heathen  bring  their  votive  offerings  to  Jehovah,  the  God 
of  Jews ;  but  the  temple  must  be  destroyed,  and  not  one 
Ftone  of  it  left  upon  another,  according  to  Jesus,  in 
order  to  prepare  for  that  worship  of  the  Father  by  men 
in  spirit  and  in  truth,  which  he,  as  the  Christ,  would 
inaugurate. 

We  thus  come  naturally  to  another  point  in  the  discus- 
sion. The  theories  which  recognize  the  political  aim  of 
Jesus  commonly  suppose  that  he  regarded  it  as  his  per- 
sonal mission  to  restore  Mosaism  to  its  primitive  purity. 
And,  if  he  shared  in  the  hope  of  the  restoration  of  the 
Theocracy,  he  would  probably  take  the  most  conservative 
ground  in  regard  to  the  Levitical  institutions  and  the 
Mosaic  precepts.  He  would  believe  the  Jewish  people 
must  be  made  independent,  in  order  to  give  suprem- 
acy to  those  institutions.  The  Roman  yoke  must  be 
broken,  and  the  coming  kingdom  be  inaugurated  with 
war.  Nothing  of  this,  however,  is  found  in  the  ministry 
of  Jesus  Christ.  When  he  preached  "  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  at  hand,"  it  was  no  summons  to  war.  The 
characteristic  qualities  of  those  who  belonged  to  this 
kingdom  were  opposed  to  the  Theocratic  spirit.  And 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  taught,  as  clearly  as  the  formal 
dechiration  before  Pilate,  that  it  was  not  of  this  world. 
Why  should  his  followers  be  ready  to  suffer  social  perse- 
cution, if  his  aim  tended  in  the  direction  regarded  with 
social  favor  ?  What  mean  the  non-resistant  exhortations, 
instructing  his  followers  to  waive  their  rights  for  the  sake 
of  the  higher  interests  they  were  living  for,  if  he  and  his 
adherents  are  charged  with  the  political  duty  of  driving 
the  invader  from  the  sacred  soil  ?  The  rise  and  progress 
of  this  kingdom,  Jesus  said,  on  another  occasion,  could 


280  THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

not  be  observed  like  those  of  an  empire  founded  by  force: 
it  would  not  "  come  with  observation."  It  had  already- 
come  unobserved.  It  began  to  come  with  John  the  Bap- 
tist, until  whose  work  the  law  was  in  the  ascendant ;  but 
since  whom  men  had  been  pressing  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  which  was  tending  to  supplant  the  law.  And,  on 
still  another  occasion,  if  he  expected  his  movement  to  leave 
th )  Je^vish  ritual  intact,  how  could  he  say,  with  pregnant 
significance,  that  new  wine  must  not  be  put  into  old  wine- 
skins, lest  they  break,  and  the  wine  be  lost.  I  know  great 
stress  is  laid  upon  his  saying,  "Think  not  that  I  have  come 
to  destroy  the  law,  or  the  prophets :  I  have  not  come  to 
destroy,  but  to  fulfil.  For  truly  do  I  say  to  you.  Till 
heaven  and  earth  pass  away,  not  one  jot  or  one  tittle  shall 
pass  from  the  law,  till  all  be  fulfilled."  But,  if  taken 
literally,  they  prove  too  much;  for,  according  to  other 
passages,  his  teaching  on  some  points  —  as,  for  instance, 
divorce,  and,  as  many  think,  the  Sabbath  —  directly  con- 
flicted with  that  of  Moses.  He  threw  doubt  directly  upon 
the  tradition  that  God  rested  on  the  seventh  day.  God, 
he  said,  had  been  always  working  up  to  that  hour,  and  in 
his  owm  acts  of  healing  done  on  the  Sabbath  he  had  been 
co-operating  with  God.  We  must  therefore  interpret  freely 
this  language,  and  understand  by  it  the  everlasting  law. 
The  smallest  requirement  of  the  true  law,  however  over- 
looked and  despised  it  may  have  been  in  the  popular 
exegesis,  would  have  its  emphasis  in  the  new  teachings ; 
and  whoever  slighted  it  would  be  the  least  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven.  There  is  not  a  word  which  can  be  fairly 
construed  into  commendation  of  the  Levitical  priesthood. 
He  gives  to  the  Mosaic  precepts  cited  the  most  spiritual 
interpretation,  or  sets  them  aside  when  they  cannot  be 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS,  281 

wrought  into  a  more  profound  system  of  natural  morality. 
He  implies  his  superiority  to  all  preceding  teachers,  in- 
cluding Moses.  "It  was  said  to  the  ancients,  but  7" say 
unto  you."  Indeed,  his  tone  in  this  discourse  is  any  thing 
but  that  of  a  Jewish  Rabbi  of  his  period.  It  is  that  of  the 
most  human  and  universal  teaching.  It  asserts,  when  we 
penetrate  beyond  the  immediate  occasion  of  it  to  its  prin- 
ciple, that  which  is  true  in  all  times  and  places.  Those 
affirmations  with  which  it  opens,  what  are  they  but  declar- 
ations, the  substantial  verity  of  which  it  is  possible  for 
every  man,  if  he  know  not  now,  yet  sometime  to  know  in 
liimself.  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit :  for  theirs  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  The  spirit  of  those  who  can  set  a 
limit  to  their  wants  and  curb  ambition,  who  do  not  live 
Winded  by  interests  to  the  demands  of  a  pure  soul,  —  the 
spirit  of  such  is  always  blessed.  Happy  he  who  imbibes 
it  fi-om  the  circumstances  of  his  life ;  and  happy  he  who, 
amidst  the  blandishments  of  riches,  is  taught  it  by  the 
discipline  of  Heaven.  These  are  they  to  whom  has  come 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  from  Jesus'  day  until  now.  Then, 
*'  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart :  for  they  shall  see  God." 
And  is  not  a  pure  mind  the  very  moral  atmosphere  in 
which  man  sees  God  as  he  is,  and  rejoices  in  the  sight? 
A  man's  moral  sentiments  are  the  medium  through  which 
comes  to  him  the  thought  of  God.  Let  those  sentiments 
be  perverted,  and  he  imagines  either  that  God  is  not  or 
that  he  is  different  from  what  he  is.  His  wrong  mind 
either  obstructs  entirely  the  beam  which  darts  from  the 
Divine  essence,  or  scatters  the  spotless  white  of  that  Sun, 
tlie  pure  aggregate  of  Divine  perfectioris,  into  the  parti- 
colored tints  of  the  earthly  and  sensual  soul  itself  Again, 
"  Blessed  are  the  merciful :  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy." 


282  THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF   JESUS. 

Jt  is  even  so.  Those  who  syrnpathize  with  human  wants 
will  feel  the  sympathy  of  God  flowing  into  their  souls, 
and  can  never  lack  assurance  of  the  Divine  mercy  so  long 
as  they  keep  in  themselves  that  pledge  of  it,  —  the  merci- 
ful spirit.  And  so  it  is  a  grand  caution,  which, every  one 
who  has  wantonly  condemned  others  knows  he  ought  to 
keep  in  memory,  —  "  Condemn  not,  lest  ye  be  condemned." 
For  the  undeserved,  heavy  sentence  of  condemnation  which 
a  man  lifts  high  to  hurl  with  malignant  intent  at  his 
brother  is  arrested  by  an  interposing  law  of  Providence, 
and  falls  from  his  weak  hand  with  its  full  weight  upon  his 
own  head.  And  at  length  we  come  to  what  might  be 
thought  a  studied  satire  upon  the  boasted  maxims  of  human 
wisdom :  "  Blessed  are  ye  when  men  shall  speak  evil  of 
you  falsely  for  my  sake."  Is  this  the  sober  truth  ?  Is  not 
Christ,  so  true  elsewhere,  mistaken  here  ?  It  is  a  verity 
as  certain  as  the  laws  of  God.  Do  not  minds  advance 
unequally  in  truth,  in  all  the  successive  phases  of  a  soul's 
spiritual  growth?  Whoever  goes  before  others  in  thought 
and  life  will  find  men  laying  this  to  his  charge.  But,  if 
by  following  the  command  of  Christian  truth  to  his  con- 
science he  has  opened  upon  himself  the  battery  of  human 
censoriousness,  he  may  exult;  for  every  unjust  word  or 
groundless  suspicion  will  but  remind  him  of  his  unbribed 
devotion,  and  be  changed  before  it  touches  his  deepest 
happiness  into  the  benediction  of  God. 

Were  we  to  go  through  what  was  spoken  on  the  Mount, 
we  might  show  its  truth  commanding  unquestionably  the 
assent  of  our  moral  natures.  It  all  takes  hold  of  our  mind 
and  life.  It  comes  to  us  to  throw  light  on  what  we  do  and 
suffer,  and  to  borrow  confirmation  from  it  in  turn.  Though 
we  fall  so  far  short  of  it,  and  could  not  have  conceived  it 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESVS.  283 

originally  and  from  ourselves,  as  Jesus  did,  it  so  accords 
with  the  laws  of  our  being  as  to  seem  to  be  the  suggestion 
of  our  experience,  some  admonition  floating  to  us  by  intent 
of  God  on  that  ever-heaving  sea  of  life,  of  ambition,  of 
passion,  of  mutual  misunderstanding,  of  strong  loves  and 
piercing  griefs,  of  various  mingling  sympathies,  on  whose 
shore  we  do  now  stand,  and  whose  tide,  for  our  few 
seconds  here  in  time,  laves  our  feet  and  dashes  upon  us 
its  spray. 

We  might  turn  over  other  pages  of  Jesus'  instruction 
beyond  that  introductory  statement  of  the  principles  of 
the  kingdom  of  God,  and  evolve  its  sense  in  terms  pre- 
senting an  undeniable  spiritual  fact  to  all  our  race.  For 
instance,  "  To  him  who  hath  shall  be  given,  and  he  shall 
have  abundance ;  but  from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be 
taken  away,  even  that  which  he  seemeth  to  have."  How 
true !  It  is  verified  in  the  mental  condition  of  every  man 
at  this  moment.  We  only  seem  to  have  the  faculty  we 
do  not  use.  There  is  no  long,  healthy  sleep  to  the  mind 
and  the  moral  will  any  more  than  to  the  body ;  but  the 
alternative  is,  live  or  die.  And  thus  Jesus  was  ever  hold- 
ing up  the  law  of  the  spiritual  life  to  the  light  of  that  day 
which  dawned  with  his  advent.  He  dwelt  on  what  is 
inward.  Although  you  cannot  find  that  once,  in  his  p  opu- 
lar  teaching,  he  laid  stress  upon  observances,  times  with- 
out number  he  studiously  distinguished  between  every 
thing  of  the  nature  of  ceremonial  and  those  everlasting 
obligations  of  justice  and  humanity,  of  inward  and  out- 
ward purity,  which  ought  to  be  recognized  in  the  home 
and  in  the  state,  in  all  the  intercourse  of  man  with  man, 
and  in  watching  over  the  secret  heart.  We  may  not  infer 
that  he  was  hostile  to  religious  forms.    He  observed  them. 


284  THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

He  knew  that  man  needed  them,  and  that  souls  instinct 
with  life  would  perpetuate  them  and  adapt  them  to  their 
own  wants.  But  he  saw  in  the  spirit  of  the  Scribes  the 
evil  of  teaching  that  any  arbitrarily  imposed  outward 
act  can  in  itself  please  God ;  and,  in  regard  to  such,  the 
.whole  emphasis  of  his  teaching  was,  "  These  ought  ye  to 
have  done,  and  not  to  have  left  the  other  undone."  He 
quoted  from  the  prophets  habitually,  "  I  will  have  mercy 
and  not  sacrifice." 

Such  is  the  genius  of  Christianity,  —  of  Christianity  as 
it  came  from  its  Founder,  —  the  religion  which  is  said  to 
have  ripened  into  the  mediaeval  theology  and  the  Roman 
hierarchy.  Too  Httle,  indeed,  has  tliis  genius  of  Chris- 
tianity been  regarded !  The  old  Judaic  spirit  which 
brought  Jesus  to  the  cross  has,  among  Protestants  as 
well  as  Catholics,  too  often  crucified  the  Christianity  of 
Christ.  Human  metaphysics  have  been  put  into  creeds 
and  catechisms.  Sects  have  been  founded  and  built  up 
on  the  importance  attached  to  the  foi-m  of  a  rite  as  a 
part  of  essential  Christianity.  Disputes  have  raged  which 
the  traditions  of  the  Church  and  the  letter  of  Scripture 
have  failed  to  settle,  and  about  which  Jesus,  if  teaching 
among  us,  would  not  waste  a  minute's  breath. 

If  further  proof  were  wanting  of  the  breadth  and  spirit- 
uality of  Jesus'  view,  it  might  be  found  in  the  fact  that  he 
was  brought  to  the  cross  by  the  pro-Judaism  party.  His 
friends  would  intei-pret  him  differently  from  his  enemies. 
The  universality  and  spirituality  of  his  aim  were  not  at 
once  apprehended  by  his  followers.  Their  very  trust  in 
him  would  make  them  slow  to  perceive  his  radical  mean- 
ing ;  for,  to  impute  to  him  what  was  in  his  mind,  would 
seem  to  be  distrust.    They  would  put  a  limited  construe- 


THE  AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  285 

tion  upon  what  he  said.  It  would  be  otherwise  with  his 
enemies,  who  would  be  sharp  and  quick  to  see  the  full 
extent  to  which  his  words  would  can-y  him. 

The  movement  of  Jesus,  then,  may  be  called  revolu- 
tionary, not  in  the  sense  of  aiming  directly  at  political 
revolution,  but  in  the  sense  of  his  expecting  to  found  a 
free,  spiritual,  and  universal  religion,  which  would  uproot 
and  remove  in  time  the  partial  religions,  Judaism  included. 
Still  he  designed  to  connect  himself  with  the  Old  Dis- 
pensation. He  recognized  the  Divine  mission  of  Moses 
and  the  Providential  office  of  the  prophets  in  preparing  for 
him.  In  the  expectations  which  they  fostered  there  was 
something  true  as  well  as  something  false.  When  they 
depicted  a  glorious  and  happy  political  condition  of  the 
Jewish  nation  under  the  Messiah  as  an  earthly  king,  Jesus 
must  have  regarded  them  as  being  in  error.  We  find 
him  pronouncing  John  the  Baptist  the  greatest  of  the 
prophets  of  the  old  order,  and  declaring  that  the  least  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  was  greater  than  he  ;  and  the  rea- 
son is  shown  by  the  context  of  the  words  (Matt,  xi.)  to  be 
that  John  as  a  Jewish  prophet  regarded  the  kingdom  of 
God  in  part  as  a  political  kingdom.  But  the  fundamental 
idea  of  the  Theocracy,  that  other  nations  would  be  united 
with  Israel  under  the  dominion  of  the  One  True  God,  was 
one  in  harmony  with  Jesus'  thought.^  This  expectation 
Jesus  regarded  it  as  his  mission  to  realize  and  fulfil.  He 
had  only  to  separate  fi*om  the  Theocratic  predictions  of  the 
prophets"  the  partial  political  element,  to  bring  them  into 
unison  with  his  universal  aim.  Whatever  in  the  hitherto 
prevailing  ideas  and  hopes  was  capable  of  expansion  he 
absorbed  into  himself,  that  it  might  be  given  out  in  a 
1  See  Noyes's  Introduction  to  his  Translation  of  the  Prophets. 


286  THE  AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

wider  and  higher  form,  and  live  for  ever.  A  case  some- 
what parallel  might  be  found  in  the  changes  wrought  by 
our  late  war.  Those  who  took  a  radical  view  of  the  issue 
of  the  contest  were  exposed  to  the  charge  of  being  revo- 
lutionary and  destroying  the  Constitution.  They  could 
reply,  "  Yes ;  the  issue  will  be  revolutionary.  There  will 
be  a  new  state  of  law,  and  of  the  relations  of  the  people 
in  important  respects,  effected  by  carrying  out  fundamental 
principles.  But  those  principles  were  the  essence  of  the 
Constitution ;  and  to  carry  them  out  is  only  fully  to  accom- 
plish its  purpose,  by  annihilating  transient  provisions  at 
war  with  liberty  and  social  justice,  and  giving  scope  to  the 
principles  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  We  hold 
to  the  Constitution.  We  have  come  not  to  destroy,  but  to 
fulfil."  So  Jesus  Christ  came  not  to  destroy  all  that  had 
gone  before,  but  to  fulfil  whatever  in  it  was  fundamental 
to  the  Divine  purpose  in  relation  to  man.  In  this  feeling 
of  a  real  connection  between  his  movement  and  the  He- 
brew ideas  and  hopes  is  to  be  found  the  principal  explana- 
tion of  his  confining  his  labors,  and  those  of  the  apostles 
when  first  sent  forth,  chiefly  to  Judea  and  Galilee.  Not 
only  must  his  own  work  be  limited  in  its  local  scope,  — 
for  he  could  not  go  everywhere,  —  but  the  historical  basid 
of  his  movement  lay  in  the  Hebrew  history.  Among  the 
Hebrew  people  only  could  he  find  suitably  prepared  imme- 
diate disciples.  Salvation  was  to  be  from  the  Jews.  And, 
foreseeing  that  the  nation  as  such  would  reject  him,  he 
saw  that  it  was  essential  to  the  extension  among  the  Gen- 
tiles of  the  truths  and  hopes  he  inherited  as  a  Jew,  essen- 
tial to  the  breaking  down  of  the  partition  wall  which  now 
kept  out  the  true  doctrine  of  God  from  the  heathen  world, 
that  he  should  come  to  a  distinct  issue  with  the  Jewish 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  287 

authorities,  and  make  it  clear  and  notorious  that  it  was 
the  narrow  spirit  of  Pharisaism  and  legal  formality  which 
crucified  him.  (If  he  were  lifted  up,  he  would  draw  all 
men  to  him.)  And  from  the  first  the  ruling  sect,  with 
the  acute  instinct  of  self-interest,  discerned  the»revolu- 
tionary  character  of  his  movement,  —  that  it  elevated  man 
above  the  Jew,  and  struck  at  the  root  of  the  idolized 
Hebrew  pre-eminence. 

I  pass  now  to  a  more  subtle  hypothesis,  that  Jesus 
expected  to  establish  the  Theocratic  empire  by  angvilio 
assistance  on  occasion  of  his  return  to  earth,  which  would 
occur  at  the  same  time  with  the  great  outward  change  of 
the  world.  It  is  founded  on  such  passages  as  this :  "  For 
the  Son  of  Man  is  to  come  in  the  glory  of  his  Father,  with 
his  angels ;  and  then  he  will  render  to  every  one  according 
to  his  works."  (Matt.  xvi.  27.  Comp.  Matt.  xiii.  41,  and 
xxvi.  29-60.)  It  is  thus  stated  by  Strauss  :  ^  "  He  waited 
for  a  signal  from  his  heavenly  Father,  who  alone  knew 
the  time  of  this  catastrophe ;  and  he  was  not  disconcerted 
when  his  end  approached  without  his  having  received 
the  expected  intimation."  His  Messianic  hope  was  not 
political  or  even  earthly.  He  referred  its  fulfilment  to  a 
supermundane  theatre. 

Strauss  speaks  of  Jesus'  hope  as  corresponding  with 
the  Messianic  ideas  of  the  Jews.  It  took  its  form  from 
those  ideas.  Scherer  also  represents  Jesus'  idea  of  the 
kingdom  as  wholly  Apocalyptic,  l^ha  first  criticism  to  be 
made  upon  this  hypothesis  is,  that  a  Theocratic  idea  aris- 
ing out  of  the  Jewish  expectations  and  conformed  to  them 
could  not  dispense  with  all  thought  of  earthly  conflict, 

1  Life  of  Jesus,  Part  II.  §  66.  The  charge  of  enthusiasm  is  retained,  but 
not  discuiised,  in  his  Life  of  Christ  for  the  German  people. 


288  THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JE^'US. 

The  struggle  could  not  have  been  altogether  upon  a  super- 
mundane theatre,  nor  the  triuirlph  of  tlie  Messiah  achieved 
without  common  warlike  agencies.  The  common  Jewish 
idea  was  founded  on  the  language  of  some  Hebrew  prophets, 
and  appears  in  the  Apocalyptic  writings  of  Christ's  age ; 
and  his  own  mind  in  cherishing  the  hope  attributed  to  him 
must  have  quite  surrendered  itself  to  the  popular  expecta- 
tion. This  expectation  supposed  some  outward  conflict  as 
the  occasion  of  supernatural  interference.  Nor  do  I  know 
any  ground  for  thinking  that  in  Christ's  time  the  Jews 
expected  the  Messiah  to  prevail  with  angelic  aid  without 
a  conflict  of  arms.  Whoever  will  read  Ezekiel  and  Daniel 
will  see  that  those  prophets  expected  a  contest  on  earth 
with  earthly  weapons,  as  the  occasion  for  the  intervention 
of  Jehovah.  And  whoever  will  read  the  wars  of  the 
Maccabees  will  see  how  Jewish  courage,  fired  with  the 
expectation  of  celestial  assistance,  never  stopped  to  com- 
pare the  apparent  strength  of  the  respective  forces.  Nor 
did  the  Apocalyptic  seers  dismiss  this  thought  of  earthly 
battle.  The  book  of  Enoch  speaks  of  the  unconverted 
as  delivered  at  the  judgment  into  the  hands  of  the  right- 
eous, whose  horees  shall  wade  in  the  blood  of  sinners, 
and  whom  the  angels  shall  come  to  help.^  The  Apoca- 
lypse of  the  New  Testament  presents  the  picture  of  the 
Messiah  as  mounted  on  a  white  horse,  and  riding  forth  to 
judge  and  make  war;  and  the  comment  of  Dr.  Noyes  on 
this  and  similar  passages  is  that,  in  the  mind  of  the  writer, 
there  was  to  be  war  in  heaven  and  upon  earth,  before 
Christ  should  reign  in  final  triumph.^  This  theory  has  no 
distinctive  character  without  supposing  the  angels  acting 

.  1  Book  of  Enoch,  DUlman,  cb.  100. 
3  Bev.  xix.  11;  comp.  Christian  Examiner,  May,  1860,  p.  382. 


THE   AIM  AND    HOPE    OF   JESUS.  289 

on  the  stage  of  sense  and  time,  and  giving  the  Hehrewri  the 
victory.  With  this  expectation  is  probably  connected  the 
"  sign  from  heaven  "  demanded  of  Jesus  by  the  Pharisees, 
a  sign  which  should  stimulate  Hebrew  faith  to  irresistible 
warlike  ardor.  The  unconverted  were  to  be  vanquished 
by  some  mysterious  exercise  of  Messianic  power.  Hence 
many  were  not  satisfied  with  Christ's  miracles ;  not  that 
they  disputed  their  reality,  but  as  being  not  decisive  of 
his  Messianic  character.  Now,  if  this  had  been  the 
tliought  of  Jesus,  he  would  have  been  disposed  to  seek  an 
occasion  for  such  interference  from  on  high.  It  is  true,  in 
saying  this,  we  say  he  must  have  given  himself  up  to  the 
enthusiasm  which  so  often  fanatically  manifested  itself  in 
his  age,  and  was  always  ready  to  break  forth.  But  the  idea 
supposed,  when  one's  whole  being  was  yielded  to  it,  —  as 
Jesus  did  yield  his  whole  being  to  the  ideas  which  pos- 
sessed him,  —  could  not  have  stopped  short  of  practical 
action.  He  must  have  been  prepared  in  his  thought  to  act 
with  fanaticism.  Strauss  says,  "  He  did  not  try  to  bring 
about  all  this  by  his  own  will ;  but  awaited  a  signal  from 
his  heavenly  Father."  The  actual  Jesus  did  undoubtedly 
as  Strauss  says ;  but  the  supposed  Jesus  would  have  at 
some  time  believed  the  signal  to  be  given.  The  idea,  and 
the  sort  of  faith  in  supernatural  aid  which  accompnnied 
it,  would  lead  him  to  think  the  moment  had  come  for  this 
demonstration.  "  If  such  were  the  ideal  of  Jesus  in  fact, 
why  did  he  not  seek  to  realize  it  at  once  ?  Why  did  he 
prefer  the  way  of  renunciation  and  self-sacrifice  to  the 
possession  of  the  kingdoms  of  the  world?  Why,  in  the 
place  of  the  Son  of  Man,  have  we  not  a  Mahomet  six 
hundred  years  in  advance."  The  logical  and  necessary 
result  of  belief  in  his  Messiahship,  and  of  faith  in  this  sort 

13 


290  THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

of  supernatural  aid  in  realizing  it,  was  that  he  should 
bring  about  an  occasion  for  this  demonstration.  It  was  an 
encounter  with  the  Romans,  in  the  hope  that  Jehovah  and 
the  angels  would  fight  for  God's  people,  and  be  more  than 
strong  enough  against  all  odds.  "  The  Messianic  Theoc- 
racy could  not  exist  as  a  Roman  province."  ^  But  Jesus 
studiously  avoids  conflict  with  Rome.  Besides,  the  second 
part  of  the  temptation  of  Christ  sets  aside  at  once  this 
ideal.  His  early  consciousness  of  wonderful  power  had 
not  the  effect  of  disposing  his  mind  favorably  toward 
such  Jewish  Messianic  ideas.  That  consciousness  tended 
rather  to  spiritualize  his  thought :  we  may  say,  it  subdued 
him.  It  made  his  whole  feeling  moderate,  and  his  whole 
thought  wise  and  temperate.  This  is  a  very  remarkable 
part  of  the  representation  of  him  by  the  evangelists. 

But,  secondly,  I  will  now  suppose  the  expectation  of 
Jesus  to  liave  been  purified  from  every  notion  of  warlike 
action.  The  regeneration  (palingenesia)  was  to  be  not 
a  political  revolution,  but  a  renovation  of  the  earth  and 
the  heavens,  attended  by  a  resurrection  of  the  dead,  of 
whom  the  accepted  were  to  dwell  with  Christ  in  the  ren- 
ovated world,  —  not  the  present  earth,  but  the  earth  re- 
stored,—  and  that  his  presence  and  return  were  to  be 
visible.  This  is  his  coming  with  the  angels  to  set  up  his 
kincjrdom  and  to  reign. 

I.  The  very  language  which  this  hypothesis  is  adopted 
to  explain,  taken  in  its  proper  sense,  proves  too  much. 
Jesus  was  to  be  a  king  on  the  renewed  earth,  yet  his 
kingdom  was  to  be  different  from  those  of  this  world.  "It 
i«  not,"  he  says,  "  of  this  world."  It  is  a  real  kingdom  as 
much  as  that  of  David;  but  it  is  not  to  be  a  worldly  rule 
1  Ilase's  Life  of  Jesus. 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  291 

on  the  one  hand,  nor  a  purely  spiritual  rule  on  the  other. 
It  is  political,  and  not  political.  According  to  the  writer 
of  the  Apocalypse,  whose  views  are  supposed  to  have  been 
sanctioned  by  Jesus,  this  king  must  reign  until  he  has 
put  all  enemies  under  his  feet.  When  the  kingdom  is 
consummated,  he  is  to  surrender  it  to  his  Father.  The 
hypothesis  under  consideration  represents  the  kingdom  as 
to  be  consummated  at  the  time  of  the  world-catastrophe 
w^hich,  with  the  second  or  real  coming  of  Jesus  as  Messiah, 
will  occur,  according  to  the  alleged  words  of  Christ  himself, 
immediately  after  the  destruction  of  the  city.  Why  shall 
not  the  kingdom  be  given  up  immediately  to  the  Father  ? 
This  king  in  "  the  proper  sense,"  and  in  no  purely  spiritual 
sense,  who  comes  visibly,  will  have  no  occasion  for  a 
reign  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word.  Strauss  says, 
"Jesus  expected  to  restore  the  throne  of  David,  and 
with  his  disciples  to  govern  a  liberated  people.  But  in 
no  degree  did  he  rest  his  hopes  on  the  sword  of  his 
adherents,  but  on  the  legions  of  angels  which  the  Father 
would  send  him.  He  was  not  disconcerted  when  his  end 
approached  without  the  kingdom  having  come.  It  would 
come  with  his  return."  But  how  when  he  returned  was 
the  throne  of  David  to  be  restored,  and  a  proper,  literal 
reign  to  exist,  and  not  a  mere  spiritual  reign  ?  This  king 
has  no  business  to  perform :  his  work  is  all  accomplished 
immediately  by  a  stupendous  miracle.  And  he  and  his 
apostles  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  sit  on  idle  thrones,  or 
to  feast  at  tables  loaded  with  luxuries  which  are  at  the 
same  time  mundane  and  supermundane ;  to  enjoy  a  sen- 
sual paradise,  which  differs  from  a  Mohammedan  paradise 
only  in  that  it  does  not  consist  of  the  coarsest  forms  of 
sensual  life.     They  are  to  partake  of  an  actual  wine,  a 


292  THE   AIM   AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

fruit  of  the  vine,  —  a  new  kind  of  wine  ;  to  observe  the 
passover  with  supermundane  food,  but  food  pleasurable 
to  the  taste.  This  Jesus  is  thought  to  have  expected 
and  promised.^  I  sometimes  think  this  attempt  to  find 
a  half-way  doctrine  of  Jesus'  expectation  concerning  the 
fiiture  ascribes  to  him  an  apocalypticism  more  inept  and 
fatuous  than  that  of  the  Jews  themselves.  It  attempts  to 
unite  the  contradictory.  It  cannot  be  stated  by  Strauss 
in  any  thing  like  the  literal  sense  of  the  passages  on 
which  it  is  founded,  without  supposing  something  of  that 
political  element  which  it  is  designed  to  exclude ;  or  else 
entirely  dropping  that  relation  to  Jewish  hopes  to  which 
it  is  believed  to  owe  its  origin,  and  thus  leaving  it  unex- 
plained. For,  if  Jesus  gave  up  all  expectation  whatever 
of  a  kingdom  of  this  world,  we  have  no  occasion  for  a 
visible  return. 

II.  The  second  objection  to  this  view  is  that  it  is 
incompatible  with  the  most  important  expressions  and 
opinions  of  Jesus. 

1.  The  kingdom  is  to  come  with  the  world-catastrophe; 
and  the  King  is  then  to  come  in  some  mysterious  manner 
on  the  clouds  of  heaven.  How,  then,  could  Jesus  say  the 
kingdom  of  God  coraeth  not  with  observation?  Could 
any  political  kingdom  arise  in  a  more  outwardly  striking 
manner?  How  does  that  saying  of  Christ  comport  with 
his  promising  a  literal  miraculous  light  in  the  heaven 
(Matt.  xxiv.  30)  which  shall  betoken  his  own  coming 
and  the  great  world-change  ?  That  form  of  coming  with 
a  precursJve  sign  in  the  heaven  is  just  what  he  con- 
tradicted. Such  a  kingdom  would  come  with  a  sign 
which  could  be  watched  for,  —  a  sign  very  different  fi-om 
1  See  Kenan's  Life  of  Jesus,  first  edition. 


TEE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  293 

tliose  signs  of  the  time,  the  moral  indications,  which  a 
spiritual  insight  might  discern.  How  could  he  say  the 
kingdom  of  God  was  among  them  already,  if  it  were  yet 
to  come  at  the  time  of  the  great  world-change  ?  How 
could  he  say  to  Caiaphas :  "  Yes,  I  am  the  Messiah ;  and 
moreover  from  this  moment  you  shall  see  the  Son  of 
Man  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power  and  coming  on 
the  clouds  of  heaven  "  ?  It  was  equivalent  to  saying,  "  You 
have  arrested  me,  you  have  already  doomed  me  to  death. 
But  I  am  the  Anointed  of  God  to  introduce  the  new 
spiritual  kingdom  of  Humanity ;  and,  from  this  moment 
in  which  you  decree  my  death,  my  cause  takes  a  Divine 
impulse,  and  my  purpose  strides  on  to  the  triumph  God 
has  destined  for  it." 

2.  This  expectation  is  incompatible  with  what  he  says 
on  other  topics  related  to  the  kingdom,  the  resun-ection, 
and  the  future  life.  This  expectation  implies  the  Apoca- 
lyptic view  of  the  resurrection.  The  Messiah  was  to  come 
to  raise  the  dead.  (The  Christian  world  has  generally 
entertained  the  same  view.)  The  visible  return  and  the 
resurrection  coexisted,  probably,  in  Jesus'  mind.  If  he 
held  the  one,  he  held  the  other.  The  two  opinions  were 
Siamese  twins,  connected  by  a  vital  bond ;  separate  them 
and  you  would  kill  them  both.  But  Jesus  gave  a  view 
of  the  resurrection  and  the  future  life  totally  different 
from  the  Apocalyptic  one.  He  taught  the  continuance  of 
life.  His  argument  with  the  Sadducees  proves  that  doc- 
trine, or  it  amounts  to  nothing.  God  is  the  God  not  of 
the  dead,  but  of  the  living.  The  Rich  Man  and  Lazarus, 
of  the  parable,  are  already  in  a  future  state  of  retribution. 
He  who  believes  on  him  has  '•  already  passed  from  death 
unto  life."    Jesus  could  not  suppose  that  one  who  had 


294  THE   AIM   AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

received  from  him  the  quickening  of  spmtual  life  could 
pass  into  the  under-world,  and  grope  as  a  shade  in  the 
intermediate  state.  "  Whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in 
him  shall  never  die."  Now,  to  one  who  is  satisfied  tliat 
Jesus  was  emancipated  from  the  doctrine  of  an  inter- 
mediate state,  it  must  be  evident  that  he  could  not  have 
held  the  Apocal}^tic  notion  resting  on  it  of  a  raising  of 
the  dead  at  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  and  could- not 
have  held  to  the  visible  coming  of  the  Messiah  who  was 
to  come  to  do  that  very  thing. 

The  same  observation  is  to  be  made  of  the  judgment. 
Jesus  shows  himself  emancipated  from  the  common  notion 
of  the  judgment,  and  of  a  future  simultaneous  judgment- 
day.  He  that  believeth  on  him  is  not  judged.  He  that 
believeth  not  is  judged  already,  in  that  he  has  not  be- 
lieved in  the  only-begotten  Son  of  God.  God  sent  him 
not  to  judge  or  to  punish  the  world,  but  to  save  it.  The 
judgment  of  the  world  is  not  to  be  exclusively  at  a 
remote  day.  It  has  begun.  It  is  now.  Christ  says,  Now 
is  the  judgment  of  this  world ;  now  is  the  Prince  of  this 
world  to  be  cast  out ;  now,  when  Jesus  is  about  to  con- 
summate by  dying  the  moral  means  of  that  result.  Jesus 
is  not  to  be  a  personal  Judge  of  men  at  a  remote  time. 
His  principles  are  for  ever  to  judge  men,  to  judge  them 
finally.  Not  himself  as  the  personal  Logos,  or  as  the  re- 
appearing Messiah,  is  to  judge  men,  but  "  the  word  he  has 
spoken."  These  thoughts  in  the  fourth  Gospel  must  have 
come  from  Jesus,  not  from  the  writer,  who  shows  himself 
in  places  not  emancipated  from  the  view  of  his  time. 

3.  The  doctrine  of  Christ's  expectation  which  I  am 
considering  is  not  congruous  with  the  means  which  he 
contemplates  for  accomplishing  his  work,  and  with  the 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  295 

view  he  took  of  the  progress  of  his  kingdom,  and  of  the 
moral  duties  and  retributions  of  Humanity.  Nothing  is 
clearer  than  that  his  kingdom  of  God  was  to  be  a  com- 
munion of  men  on  earth  bound  together  by  the  same 
consciousness  of  the  heavenly  Father.  It  was  to  extend 
into  another  life.  But  it  was  to  spread  more  and 
more  widely,  and  subdue  the  world  to  his  spiritual 
dominion.  By  moral  influence  he  is  to  be  King.  This 
communion  is  'to  be  the  salt  of  the  earth,  the  light  of  the 
world.  It  is  to  extend  its  influence  by  holy  example,  by 
good  works.  He  will  be  in  spirit  with  the  apostles  and 
with  his  church.  He  trains  them  to  carry  on  his  work, 
and  tells  them  to  preach  the  good  news  to  all  nations. 
He  does  thi&  as  if  founding  a  work  which  shall  go  on 
indefinitely.  He  declares  early,  in  a  discourse  designed 
to  explain  his  kingdom,  that  the  law  shall  not  pass  away ; 
that  it  shall  in  its  moral  requirements  be  all  realized. 
Heaven  and  earth  shall  not  pass  away  until  all  shall  be. 
And  he  directs  his  disciples  to  pray  as  much  as  for  daily 
bread  that  God's  kingdom  may  come,  and  that  God's 
will  may  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  done  in  heaven.  Is 
it  possible  that  this  teacher  expects  all  this  to  be  closed 
in  thirty  or  forty  years,  by  a  violent  catastrophe,  and  by 
the  substituting  of  a  universal  miracle  for  this  moral  in- 
strumentality? He  says  it  is  not  the  Father's  will  that 
one  of  the  lowliest  shall  perish.  Did  he  mean  to  limit 
the  opportunity  of  salvation  for  the  race  to  forty  years, 
and  to  consign  to  the  torment  of  Gehenna  all  who  did 
not  accept  the  new  truth  in  that  time?  And  all  this 
impossibility  is  heightened  by  the  nature  of  some  of  those 
parables  in  which  he  treated  of  his  kingdom.  "If  the 
kingdom  of  God  were  to  be  established  by  an  irresistible 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

miracle,  on  a  fixed  day,  in  a  manner  so  splendid,  what 
signify  those  admirable  parables  of  the  mustard-seed,  of 
the  leaven,  of  the  net,  of  the  grain  growing  from  itself 
which  suppose  a  development,  slow,  regular,  organic,  pro- 
ceeding fi'om  an  imperceptible  point,  but  endowed  with 
a  Divine  vitality,  and  displaying  successively  its  latent 
energies  ?  "  ^  Besides,  no  one  ever  more  strictly  enjoined 
the  duties  of  life,  the  everlasting  obligations.  He  con- 
templates such  duties  as  are  to  be  done  in  such  a  world  as 
ours  was  then  and  is  now,  as  the  essential  sphere  in  which 
the  heavenly  spirit  must  be  formed  in  man.  His  prin- 
ciple of  final  judgment  is,  "Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done 
the  duties  of  Humanity  unto  your  fellow-men,  ye  have 
done  them  unto  me.  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father." 
Could  that  teacher  suppose  that  the  opportunity  for  per- 
forming such  duties  would  cease  for  ever  before  the  last 
of  his  apostles  should  have  died?  Could  he  think  that 
within  that  time  the  destinies  of  Humanity  as  he  knew  it 
would  be  closed  ? 

These  are  the  principal  reasons  which  determine  me  to 
believe  that  Jesus  did  not  expect  to  return  visibly  to  raise 
the  dead,  judge  the  world,  and  be  the  head  of  an  exter- 
nal Theocratic  kingdom  on  the  renewed  earth.  What, 
then,  shall  be  said  of  the  language  which  appears  to 
express  that  opinion  ?  "  Ye  shall  drink  the  wine  new 
with  me  in  my  Father's  kingdom."  "Ye  shall  sit  on 
thrones  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel,"  &c.  Two 
considerations  are  to  be  kept  in  sight  in  establishing  the 
views  and  expectations  of  Jesus :  first,  that  he  used  this 
language  —  so  far  as  he  used  it  —  in  a  figurative  sense,  to 
represent  spiritual  and  providential  facts  as  he  conceived 
1  R^ville,  Review  of  Kenan's  Life  of  Jesus. 


THE   AIM   AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  297 

them ;  second,  that  the  evangelists  may  have  somethnes, 
given  to  his  language  a  precision  and  a  connection  which 
did  not  belong  to  it,  as  delivered.  That  he  could  not 
have  emj^loyed  this  language  as  it  is  reported  to  us,  in  its 
literal  and  proper  sense,  is  to  my  mind  a  necessary  con- 
viction in  the  premises.  This  would  suppose  that  he 
entertained  two  orders  of  conceptions,  which  were  opposed 
to  one  another,  with  a  clear  profound  conviction,  and  gave 
them  as  revelations  of  God  :  one  his  spiritual  and  rational 
beliefs;  the  other  his  Apocalyptic  beliefs.  This  suppo- 
sition is  the  vice  of  Renan's  seventeenth  chapter.  The 
language  of  the  Apocalyptic  beliefs  Jesus  might  use  to 
some  extent  as  a  vehicle  for  conveying  the  spiritual  and 
rational  to  others;  and  the  most  explicit  language  in 
which  he  conveyed  his  spiritual  beliefs,  so  far  as  it  was 
retained  in  their  feebler  minds,  might  be  forced  into 
harmony  with  their  traditional  opinions.  But  that  in 
Jesus'  mind,  so  original,  so  manifestly  filled  with  fresh 
thought  on  every  theme  of  Providence  and  man,  these 
spiritual  apprehensions  of  a  kingdom  or  communion  of 
God  which  should  act  under  and  within  the  state,  reno- 
vating human  life  and  society ;  of  a  Messiah  who  by  such 
a  kingdom  should  fulfil  the  missionary  function  of  Israel 
to  the  race  of  man  ;  of  a  resurrection  which  should  be  the 
uninterrupted  continuance  of  the  blessed  life,  or  an  im- 
mediate renewal  of  the  sense  of  wasted  opportunity  and 
law  violated  on  earth ;  of  a  judgment  both  immediate  and 
continual  of  every  soul  despising  the  truth  revealed  to  it ; 
of  a  retribution  to  civil  societies  according  to  Divine  law, 
—  should  arise  as  original  conceptions,  be  held  with  firm 
decisive  grasp,  be  of  the  essence  of  his  instruction,  and 
80  pronounced  in  him  that  our  most  advanced  modern 

13* 


298  TUE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

thought  is  but  the  distant  echo  of  his  profound  and  dis- 
tinct enunciations ;  and  that  at  the  same  time  he  should 
hold  those  Apocalyptic  traditions,  of  a  visible  coming, 
of  a  Theocratic  throne  before  whose  splendor  that  of 
CsBsar  would  fade  away,  of  a  simultaneous  resurrection 
and  judgment,  —  hold  them  in  unimpaired  conviction, 
as  truths  to  be  solemnly  insisted  upon  as  a  part  of  his 
revelation, — this,  it  seems  to  me,  comes  as  near  a  psy- 
chological contradiction  as  we  can  well  conceive.  And 
besides,  if  Jesus  had  clung  to  those  beliefs  as  Divine  con- 
victions, the  language  ascribed  to  him  would  have  had  the 
unity  of  that  of  the  Epistles  and  the  Apocalypse  on  this 
subject.  We  should  not  be  perplexed  with  apparent  con- 
tradictions. As  it  is,  we  are  obliged  to  use  tliose  words 
which  inculcate  his  spiritual  thought  for  explaining  that 
part  of  his  language  which  is  conformed  to  Jewish  con- 
ceptions. 

But,  it  is  said,  this  language  would  naturally  create  mis- 
understanding, and  that  it  is  too  bold  to  be  taken  in  a 
figurative  sense.  In  regard  to  the  misunderstanding  of 
it,  let  it  be  said,  if  we  suppose  a  mind  inspired  by  God  to 
see  far  deeper  and  further  than  its  contemporaries,  it  must 
be  liable  to  be  misunderstood  in  proportion  to  the  pov- 
erty of  the  vernacular  language.  Jesus'  inspiration  and 
insight  gave  his  speech  a  character  such  as  the  highest 
poetic  endowment  always  gives,  and  made  it  bold.  It  is 
not  to  be  forgotten  that  he  belonged  to  the  east  and  to 
the  people  who  have  given  us  the  Old  Testament  proph- 
ecies. The  boldest  tropes  were  natural  to  him.  In  mo- 
ments of  strong  moral  excitement,  they  fly  from  him  af 
sparks  from  the  flint  or  lightning  from  the  charged  cloud 
It  exposes  him  to  the  charge  of  mysticism.    We  forget 


THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  299 

that  he  was  not  a  lecturer,  a  systematic  teacher;  but 
%  prophet,  a  converser  in  the  streets,  a  popular  teacher, 
a  poet  sent  from  God  to  re-create  humanity.  Necessity 
concurred  with  inspiration  to  make  his  speech  tropical 
and  often  liable  to  be  misapprehended.  He  was  obliged 
to  use  images  and  terms  which  the  people  and  the  schools 
applied  to  the  Messiah  in  order  to  claim,  as  he  meant  to 
claim,  a  predetermined,  providential  connection  with  He- 
brew history  and  hope.  When  he  said  to  Pilate,  "  I  am 
a  king,"  it  was  a  truth ;  but  it  was  a  trope.  "  I  am  the 
bread  of  life,"  —  a  truth,  but  a  trope.  "I  am  come  to 
send  a  sword  on  the  earth,  not  peace;"  "This  cup  of 
wine  is  my  blood  sealing  the  new  covenant,"  —  truths, 
but  compact  with  the  boldest  tropes.  When  he  said,  "  I 
am  the  Messiah,"  it  was  a  truth,  but  a  trope.  It  was 
liable  to  be  misunderstood;  but,  without  it,  it  was  im- 
possible that  he  should  be  understood.  He  saw  Satan, 
after  the  seventy  returned  from  their  mission  and  related 
their  success,  "  falling  like  lightning  from  heaven."  If  he 
foresaw  political  revolutions  which  would  occur  within  a 
generation,  and  believed  they  would  be  employed  by  Prov- 
idence to  further-the  establishment  of  his  principles  or  king- 
dom, which  would  then  reach  a  point  from  which  it  would 
be  evident,  to  a  sympathizing  mind  quick  to  catch  the 
gUmpses  of  a  new  day,  that  they  would  become  dominant 
in  humanity,  would  it  be  too  bold  a  figure  for  him  to  say, 
"  The  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  will  be  as  the  lightning 
which  shoots  from  horizon  to  horizon,"  or  too  bold  a  figure 
to  describe  those  precursive  overturns  and  downfalls  of 
the  old  in  language  boiTOwed  from  Isaiah  and  Joel,  the 
proi)hets  whom  he  loved  and  knew  by  heart?  Might  he 
not  believe,  identifying  his  rehgion  and  the  Divine  spirit 


300  THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS 

which  would  spread  it,  that  at  the  time  of  these  changes, 
conspiring  providentially  with  the  labors  of  apostles  and 
evangelists,  his  voice  would  call  the  chosen,  those  pre- 
pared by  mental  and  moral  affinity,  to  the  new  life-work, 
to  the  new  order  of  things;  that  his  call  to  his  own 
would  be  like  the  supposed  call  of  the  last  trumpet  sum- 
moning them  to  come  into  a  spiritual  communion  of 
blessed  work,  and  blessed  hope?  These  figures  wera 
naturally,  almost  inevitably,  formed  in  these  circum- 
stances. 

He  used  the  language  given  him  in  the  speech  of  his 
time  in  a  figurative  sense,  partly  because  of  the  want  of 
proper  terms  suited  to  his  purpose,  and  partly  because  as 
a  popular  teacher,  desirous  to  impress  the  common  mind, 
he  could  not  sacrifice  all  the  associations  connected  with 
that.  But  we  often  find  in  proximity  with  it  words  of 
his  own,  or  something  in  the  occasion,  which  he  might  ex- 
pect to  constrain  the  listeners  to  reflect  that  he  was  speak- 
ing figuratively ;  as  John  vi.,  "  My  words,  they  are  spirit 
and  they  are  life,"  and  the  reply  Luke  xxii.  38,  to  the  in- 
formation, here  are  two  swords,  "  It  is  enough."  Were  the 
accounts  more  full,  it  is  fair  to  suppose  we  might  have 
more  such  expressions.  They  would  not  be  so  likely  to 
be  remembered  as  the  striking,  figurative  words. 

There  are  words  of  Christ  at  the  Last  Supper  which 
seem  to  me  to  have  occasioned  quite  unnecessary  per- 
plexity. "  I  say  unto  you  I  will  not  henceforth  drink  of 
the  fruit  of  the  vine  until  that  day  when  I  drink  it  new 
with  you  in  my  Father's  kingdom."  They  were  the  spon- 
taneous outflow  of  mingled  sadness,  affection,  and  hope. 
He  might  expect  them  to  be  interpreted  to  his  disciples 
by  his  situatioii,  by  all  he  had  said  of  leaving  them,  and 


THE   AIM   AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  301 

by  his  habit  of  conveying  spiritual  thought  under  the 
sensuous  images  suggested  by  the  moment.  They  re- 
ferred to  the  kingdom  he  died  to  establish.  They  were 
as  natural  as  to  say,  "  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered 
together  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them." 
But  they  have  been  a  stumbling-block  to  students  whom 
•»ve  should  have  expected  to  be  able  better  to  orient 
themselves  in  the  Master's  genius  and  style. 

Colani  has  spent  a  page  to  ridicule  it,  and  show  that  it 
.  is  not  fit  for  its  place.^  Yet  a  similar  figure  is  used  by 
occidental  preachers,  who  would  not  expect  to  be  re- 
proached for  coarseness.  A  young  minister  on  an  occa- 
sion not  unlike  that  on  which  Jesus  sat  with  his  disciples 
—  occurring  as  did  that  passover  in  the  midst  of  sacrifice 
and  revolution,  the  Thanksgiving  day  celebrated  after  the 
close  of  our  great  war,  in  our  land  at  once  so  afflicted 
and  so  blessed  —  addressed  his  hearers,  some  of  whom  had 
lost  sons  or  brothers  in  camp  or  field,  in  figurative  but 
very  appropriate  and  touching  language,  in  which  we  may 
suppose  he  felt  the  inspiration  of  his  Master's  words  at  the 
last  meal.  It  was  to  the  effect  that,  although  those  who 
had  fallen  in  the  strife  could  no  more  partake  with  us  in 
the  bounty  with  which  the  Thanksgiving  table  would  be 
spread,  they  would  in  all  future  festivals  be  with  us  in 
spirit,  and  rejoice  in  the  blessings  ever  more  and  more  to 
be  realized  which  had  been  purchased  by  their  sacrifices 
for  our  disinthralled  country. 

Nor  do  I  see  any  better  cause  of  the  offence  which  is 

taken  at  the  language  ascribed  to  Jesus  in  Matt.  xix.  28, 

in  the  offer  of  thrones :  "  In  the  regeneration,  when  the 

Son  of  Man  shall  sit  on  the  throne  of  his  glory,  ye  also 

1  Jesus  Christ  and  the  Messianic  Beliefs  of  his  Time. 


302  THE   AIM  AND   HOPE    OF   JESUS. 

shall  sit  on  twelve  thrones  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of 
Israel."  Let  us  think  how  Jesus  must  have  longed  to 
communicate  his  thought  and  his  hope  to  those  chosen 
ones ;  how  he  would  not  be  willing  to  drive  them  away 
by  his  very  greatness  as  he  sometimes  drove  away  the 
careless  and  cavilling ;  how  his  mind,  if  he  were  a  human 
being  and  not  an  automaton,  would  alternate  between  the 
sternest  truth-speaking  and  the  necessity  of  coming  closer 
to  them,  and  giving  them  hope,  and  lifting  them  a  little 
nearer  to  himself ;  how  like  the  mother  bird,  enticing  her 
brood  to  their  first  flight,  and  finding  he  had  at  one  moment 
gone  beyond  them,  he  would  come  back,  and  alight  on  a 
point  nearer  to  their  apprehension,  that  he  might  tempt 
them  to  use  the  untried  pinions  of  their  thought,  —  and 
we  need  have  no  difficulty  in  seeing  that  he  meant  thrones 
of  moral  power.  I  do  not  know  how  those  men  received 
it ;  but  I  do  not  believe  they  thought  then  of  political 
power.  If^  after  Jesus  left  them,  they  recalled  this  and 
every  other  such  expression  as  a  means  of  nourishing  the 
hope  of  an  Apocalyptic  return  and  kingdom,  the  great 
Teacher  and  Comforter  was  not  accountable  for  that  per- 
version. 

Jesus'  language,  then,  can  be  explained  without  suppos- 
ing him  to  have  expected  visibly  to  return  after  death 
to  erect  a  kingdom  of  God  of  which  he  should  be  the 
visible  head. 

The  result  of  our  inquiries  is,  that  Jesus  did  not  aim  at 
any  political  sovereignty,  that  he  rose  by  the  force  of  the 
special  endowment  of  his  nature  above  the  Apocalyptic 
superstition  of  his  age,  and  that  he  looked  and  labored 
immediately  for  the  moral  and  spiritual  renovation  of 
humanity  on  this  earth.     He  claimed  to  be  a  Messiah; 


THE  AIM  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS.  803 

not  a  Messiah  after  the  Jewish  conceptions,  but  a  man 
anointed  and  endowed  of  God,  to  perfect  by  the  manifes- 
tation of  the  Divine  in  the  human,  the  means  of  this 
moral  renovation  of  humanity.  He  regarded  the  spiritual 
Messiahship  as  a  divinely  appointed  means  to  this  end. 
He  aspired  to  spiritual  rule  for  no  end  but  this,  and  his 
aspiration  was  disinterested,  godlike.  It  has  been  said 
that  he  was  ambitious,  though  it  is  allowed  that  his  am- 
bition was  the  most  elevated.  And  he  has  been  compared 
with  disadvantage  to  Socrates,  whose  ambition,  it  is 
gaid,  was  "  to  serve  without  reigning^'*  while  that  of  Jesus 
was  "  to  reign  hy  serving^''  and  the  former  is  justly  thought 
to  be  the  nobler  purpose.  It  is  no  time  to  institute  a 
comparison  between  Jesus  and  Socrates.  I  have  no  wish 
to  disparage  the  great  Pagan.  I  will  allow  Grote's  esti- 
mate, that  the  Apology  as  given  by  Plato  is  the  speech  of 
one  who  deliberately  foregoes  the  immediate  purpose  of  a 
defence,  the  persuasion  of  his  judges ;  who  speaks  for  pos- 
terity without  regard  to  his  own  life.  The  aim  of  Socrates 
was  disinterested,  but  not  so  elevated  as  that  of  Jesus. 
The  aim  of  Socrates  belonged  to  the  realm  of  the  under- 
standing ;  the  aim  of  Jesus,  to  the  realm  of  the  Spirit. 
They  both  took  delight  in  the  exercise  of  their  gift :  this 
is  innocent,  when  not  an  exclusive  motive ;  but  Socrates 
more  consciously  sought  this  delight  than  Jesus.  No  self- 
abnegation  can  be  conceived  more  entire  than  that  of  the 
Christ  as  represented  by  the  evangelists  with  every  mark 
of  truth.  He  sought  to  reign  only  as  all  seek  to  reign  who 
put  forth  their  powers  to  assist  the  development  of  other 
minds.  He  would  reign  only  so,  and  so  far,  as  this  might 
be  to  sei-ve  his  race.  He  had  no  ambition.  His  pui-pose 
not  to  reign  by  serving^  but  to  reian  that  he  might 


804  THE  ALU  AND   HOPE    OF  JESUS. 

serve.  He  respected  the  freedom  of  the  mind.  He  ap- 
pealed to  reason  and  conscience.  He  claimed  authority 
in  the  name  of  reason  and  conscience,  and  believed  that 
he  thus  claimed  it  in  the  name  of  God.  And  if  his  reisTi 
has  been  more  extensive,  more  durable,  and  more  benefi- 
cent than  that  of  others,  it  is  because  he  has  acted  by  the 
highest  kind  and  with  the  largest  measure  of  truth  and 
life,  on  the  highest  powera  and  tendencies  of  man. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  50  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.00  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


DEC  2 


mM 


API 


^m 


0CTlAtS66  76 


W 


^ 


RtCEJVgD 


"^hK  »  'f 


N0V?9^8R-6PM 


2lMar*61RR 


\U  STACKa 


<"0AN  DEPI. 


mv 


1961 


SEP  1 9  1969  1  9 


MR 


^'  "IM- 


,#^<ff?PjJiC^^P   <^t>^-4PM 


m\  12  lai&tm^'  f  ^^  fi 


>:       on 


LU 


rTTITX::^ 


g   ^-    ^ 

S       Cl       ^"^ 


C^ 


NOV  1  2  1962 


lt      cr      *^^ 


CJ; 


BECCIR.     .P    976 


LD  21-100m-8,'34 


YB  21975 


'»-vv  m*' 


^%^^. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


